


The Flaw in the Plan

by ForgottenAngerCourter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Harry, Dementor Harry, Emotional Instability, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insane Harry, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2019-11-18 19:26:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenAngerCourter/pseuds/ForgottenAngerCourter
Summary: What REALLY happened after Voldemort died?Harry did not celebrate. Harry did not feel relief. Harry did not move on… Harry only felt pain.





	1. The Flaw in the Plan

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this story on FanFiction, and decided that I wanted to transfer it to Archive. Still- I hope you guys enjoy it! This was the fanfic that got me into writing fanfiction after all :D 
> 
> WARNING: Please check the tags, because this story is very violent, and a lot of people die. Harry also happens to go a little Insane...

Pain. Searing  _pain_  seemed to pulse from every movement of my body, until even breathing brought agony.

I knew logically that this was a good thing. That Voldemort was evil and it was a blessing to be rid of him.

So why did I feel so cursed?

I felt so empty. I felt like someone had just ripped something essential from me. A limb, or a memory… something that was once a part of me was now just…gone.

 _Stolen_.

I felt dizzy and breathless as I fell to the ground, huddled on the floor in a pathetic heap, unable to move. Distantly I heard Ginny screaming my name.

Ginny…

She was safe now; everyone was safe now that Voldemort was dead. Even I was safe…

So  _empty_ …

I had never felt this pain before, this, subtle  _ache_  in my very core. Oh how I just wanted it to end!

**PLEASE LET IT END!**

Her touch burned my skin, my head felt like it was splitting open and spilling my blood onto the floor. I couldn't even hear my screams over the pounding in my ears.

Everything was a blur of color; I couldn't see anyone or anything even as I felt hands on me. They shook me, prodded me,  _dirtied_  me.

**DON'T TOUCH ME!**

It hurt, my very magic practically  _screeched_  as it tore my skin, enraged and desperate to make them let go of me.

Why did it hurt so much? Why wouldn't they stop touching me, they were HURTING ME!

"STOP  **TOUCHING**   **ME!** "

My voice echoed in the great hall, and all of their filthy hands left me almost immediately. I felt like sobbing in relief as the pressure in my chest lessened somewhat, but it continued to throb with every beat of my heart as I tried to breathe.

"Harry…"

Why was I so empty… why did it hurt so  _much?_

"Harry, what's wrong with you?"

That's not right… the voice should've been smooth as ice, hissing and familiar and confident- this voice was wrong. It was hoarse and hurt my ears; it was also high and sweet, like an over sugared candy you just couldn't wait to spit out.

"It's over, we won Harry!"

The voice seemed to be in a pain too… we won? Won what?

…

The war.

"Please, snap out of it Harry! He's dead! We're safe now -!"

He's dead.

Voldemort couldn't hurt anybody else.

He's dead.

His horcruxs were destroyed.

He's dead…

Even the one in me was gone.

I was no longer a horcrux… I was just an empty shell… an  _empty_ _ **shell**_ …

My heart began to pound as my eyes shot open.

His soul was gone. I could no longer, consciously or unconsciously, feel him inside me. He was cleansed from me; I no longer had any ties to him.

 _I was so empty_ …

I was nothing.

I stumbled to my feet, deaf to everyone as I staggered across the hall, my eyes fixated on a body laying just in front of me.

Come back…

I fell to the floor by his side as I put my shaking hands on either side of his face. "Wake up…"

He needed to come back inside me; I needed him back inside of me where he belonged.

"It's time to wake up now…"

His face remained surprisingly passive, even beautiful under the glow of the candles in the great hall. His face was the purest white and soft as silk under my fingers.

"Harry…"

His lips refused to move, to form that arrogant smirk I now craved. He needed to stop pretending to be asleep; he needed to wake up now…

"Harry V-Voldemort's dead, mate. Why are you acting so-?"

"He's not dead, he just needs to wake up…" I muttered to the vaguely familiar voice, swaying slightly as I tried to continue breathing.

"Come on, you can do it…" Shaking Voldemort slightly, I tried to smile encouragingly down at him, "It's okay, I'm here… I just need you to wake up now…"

"He's gone mad Hermione,"

"Shush Ronald! He's probably in a state of disbelief; he just needs time to adjust is all,"

Why wasn't he waking up? Voldemort needed to wake up, he needed to open up those wonderful ruby eyes, he needed to-

Why were they touching me again?

They weren't just touching me; they were pulling me away from him, from his gloriously soothing  _soul-_

"Let me go!" I thrashed under their restrictive hold, screaming my heart out as I tried to return to his side…

"Harry, you need to snap out of this right now!"

" **NOOOOO!** "

I felt them struggle to hold me as I kicked, bit, and snarled; fighting tooth and nail to return to his side where he needed me…

"Is he possessed or something! What the hell is wrong with him Herm-"

I heard a gasp after I kicked one of my captors, and felt triumphant when both pairs of hands let me go.

I scrambled back to his side, taking his cold hands in my own and bringing them up to my chest. The wound in my soul cried out for relief as it searched for its companion, twisting in agony under my skin when it felt nothing.

"No…"

I tightened my hold on his hands as tears of anguish filled my unseeing eyes.

"You need to make it stop; you need to make the pain go away…"

…

"I'm you horcrux, your safety."

…

"I feel so empty; I need you to fill me again,"

Silence.

It resonated across the great hall until all you could hear was your own heartbeat. I could feel the eyes of hundreds if not millions of people on me, but I felt uncaring to them. They couldn't help me, they couldn't sooth my ache, they couldn't fill me and I so needed to be  _filled again_ …

"I'm your horcrux, I wasn't meant to be so  _empty_ …."

I cried out in agony as my body trembled, and then finally fell to the floor because I couldn't hold myself up any longer.

I settled myself into his side, bringing his arms around me as I buried my head on his chest and sobbed.

"… Hermione-"

"I don't know Ron... I just don't know..."

Come back inside me, don't leave me like this! I need you inside me; I can't live with this pain!

That was when reality crashed down on me.

I could not hear his heartbeat.

His soul was gone.

And that was when I could no longer breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you guys enjoyed my fanfic! It honestly still feels new to me. 
> 
> I will be posting a new chapter every day, so I can go over and edit old errors if I find any. It is complete other then 2 chapters I've yet to write (bringing it to a total of 10 chapters long), and I will be posting the ending on this website and on the old one. 
> 
> I'm brushing the dust off and resurrecting this old monster :)  
> I hope you guys enjoy the ride! ;)


	2. The Dementor's Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, minor character death

Is this what drove him crazy?

This never ending emptiness that will NEVER be filled again?

Or was it the knowledge that we will feel this ever present ache for every  _second_ , of every  ** _day,_**  for the  ** _rest of our lives_ _?_**

I want to die.

I want to crumble to the floor and stop breathing; only now I won't even have the comfort of dying in his arms.

He was even further away from me now, in this cold white room under the watchful eyes of some paid nurse.

His ashes were long gone, spit and torn up by an unmerciful wind that wouldn't let even his remains stay in one whole piece.

He didn't have a funeral.

I never got to say good-bye.

Maybe he and I just weren't meant to be whole.

I breathe in and out slowly, deliberately.

The nurses' eyes are always fixed on my chest, constantly making sure I continue to breathe on my own, when we both know I'm just waiting for a moment to stop.

It hurts. It hurts so  _much;_ it's all I can do to continue to breathe this toxic air.

Why won't they let me die? They can see how miserable I am, unmoving in this corner with glazed eyes and a rattling breath. It hurts so much to breathe.

That's why I'm here. That's why my so-called 'friends' stuffed me away in this hospital, so that I can continue to breathe in and OUT…

I stop breathing for a moment.

The nurse fixes her wand on me.

I force myself to continue to breathe.

Every time I stop breathing, every time I try to die; they are there like sadistic whores, using spells to force my lungs to work. The only reason I keep breathing is because while it hurts to breathe, their magic on my skin literally  _burns_.

Maybe I am going insane.

The nurses tell me it's been a year and that the world wants me back.

I want to tell them to go fuck themselves, but I can barely put up the energy to breathe, let alone talk.

They visit me sometimes, my once friends. They shuffle into the room awkwardly, staring at me with what I know to be horror.

I must look like death, which I guess is appropriate considering the circumstances.

The fact that my heart is tiredly pumping, or that my lungs swell with oxygen, fools no one. Or at least, it doesn't fool me.

I am soulless. My soul, the soul I should've sheltered, is torn and waving in the air like a useless flag. I am no longer a horcrux. I killed the soul that I should've spent my life protecting.

I had failed.

…

The red-haired girl visits me quite often; I'm told she visits once a week, though I haven't cared enough to keep track of time. I don't know her name. I don't feel anything but apathy every time she looks at me with those brown eyes full of such shallow anguish.

She has never felt  _pain_  before, and the fact that she could look at me and feel as if she was  _suffering_  a  ** _terrible_**  fate disgusted me to my shriveled up core.

She was revolting, and unpleasant. I hated her visits as much as I could in the almost catatonic state I had been forced into.

Despite this, the worst thing about her visits was that she insisted on  _talking_  to me.

One on one.

 _Alone_.

She once described our meetings as 'intimate', and she told me every visit that she would wait for me to 'fix' myself.

"You're not eating Harry, you need to eat."

She never stopped talking. I wonder if she would stop if she was smart enough to know that I was never going to  **respond** …

"Why won't you talk to me Harry? You love me; why do you do this to me?"

My hatred for her grew with every word she spouted from that disgusting mouth.

"They have told me over and over why you are like…  _this,_ but it really  _is_  a good thing that he's gone Harry."

It grew and grew until I felt my stability twisting and bending spastically under the mindless insanity that wanted to consume me, and then  _destroy_   _her_.

"It's alright Harry; I know how…  _seductive_  and…  ** _manipulative_**  V-Voldemort's soul can be."

My limp body tensed, my fingers clinched, and emotion burned through my eyes for the first time since I had woken up  _alive_.

The red-head looked shocked, then hopeful, and then thrilled. She reached out and took my hand in her own, pressing my clinched fist to her cheek as she smiled at me in reassurance.

My skin burned.

My hand started to shake.

"Yes Harry, you're not alone! Remember back when I was possessed by the diary? I felt his soul in me too, but it's okay Harry! You're better off without it, trust me. His soul was a parasite; an evil that I am so glad is gone now!"

She smiled that relieved smile at me, caressing my wrist with fingers of fire.

"We can be 'whole' together Harry,"

 _ **So,**_ she knew what it felt like to have her soul  **ripped**  in two? She had  **felt**  the  ** _pain_**  of her own horcrux being  ** _stolen_**  from where it should have been nestled, safe, forever? She had  **felt**  the  ** _emptiness_**  of only having half a soul when the rest of it was  **gone** ,  ** _forever_ _?_**   She  **knew**  what it was like to feel that  **relentless**   ** _unraveling_**  pain in every  _ **cell**  _of her body?

" _You know **nothing**_..." I forced out of frozen lips.

My whole body had been numb for so long with only the pain as company, that it felt strange to feel these emotions… they felt so new in my body. I felt empowered by them, and I used my new-found strength to rip my hand from her.

It had been so long since someone had touched me; I had almost forgotten how much it scorched my skin.

Something cruel and wicked settled in my stomach as I stared at the red-head in front of me. She looked at me in hurt and confusion, reaching out for me once more, before stopping when I recoiled.

How dare she touch me and act as if she knew my pain.

Oh, I felt dizzy with these emotions. They possessed me in a way he once did so long ago, overpowering me until all I knew was madness.

Tilting my head slightly, I felt my lips crack as they split my gaunt face into a demonic smile.

"You want to be 'whole' with me?"

"Of course I do Harry!" The silly girl had the gall to look determined as she crossed her arms indignantly, though she beamed at me in pride; practically sparking in bliss as she looked at me.

My chuckle sounded more like the nails on a chalkboard until it bloomed into a laugh so reminiscent of him, that it made my constant ache worse.

Stopping abruptly, I was on my feet before she could blink, clinging to the wall to support my thin limbs. She rushed forward to help me, but I grabbed her arms with bruising fingers as my eyes bore into her, reflecting all the madness and agony I felt deep inside my core.

I heard her swallow loudly and watched her open her mouth to call for help, but all that came out was a surprised squeak.

I never initiated contact. I hated contact. Everyone burned me except for him, but his soothing balm was long gone.

Maybe we were both destined from birth to become insane with emptiness…

I wasn't really doing anything wrong… this was just part of my nature…

My soul was torn and dirty inside me; twisted into desperation by the constant loneliness and pain I felt. It was almost like I wasn't in control of my actions; my soul cried out for justice and for some form of relief from this never ending nightmare.

And seeing her standing there all doe eyed and  _whole,_ made me want to  **rip** her to  ** _shreds_.**

Why couldn't I be whole? Wasn't I just as deserving, if not more? What gave her the right to be complete? I spent my entire life being buttered up to be a sacrificial lamb; I tore out a piece of my own soul god damn it! All for people like  _her_.

They didn't deserve to live.

They didn't deserve to be whole.

I felt my soul scream in bitter agreement.

She didn't deserve to be full, she didn't deserve her magic, and she didn't deserve her very own  _soul_.

Inspiration made me open my mouth and force her own to open an inch from mine with unrelenting fingers.

Instinct commanded my magic from my eager core into my breath.

And resentment allowed me to feel pleasure as I watched her skin grow grey as a golden light left her mouth and traveled into mine.

I breathed in greedily as my core drank in her soul with impatience, absently tossing away her body. Her soul felt blindingly bright and so…  _superficial_. I grimaced at its disgusting 'taste'.

At least the madness that had overtaken me loosened its overwhelming grip. It was not gone by any means, but it seemed to be pacified for the moment. Her disgusting soul would never fill me the way I craved, and I KNEW that. Her soul was pathetic; not even her ENTIRE soul could compare to the small sliver I had once housed.

My ache pulsed almost sadistically, reminding me of how full I had once been; it was a sick and maybe masochistic comfort, but it was at least something to hold on to.

Maybe this was why dementors were so eager to devour souls. Maybe they were cursed to forever be empty… just like me.

Everyone walked around so ignorantly, no one appreciated the fact that they were born whole.

They deserved to be like this insignificant red-head. They deserved to have their souls sucked out.

And it was not just her soul I had taken.

I felt magic dance under my skin with readiness to be used, and I watched curiously as my skin took on a rather interesting glow.

I smiled a small, true smile as I slid back down to the floor, curling contently in my corner.

I stared at the ceiling with satisfaction; I even began to hum slightly as I slumped against the wall.

The nurses came in a few minutes later, some of them burst out screaming before they rushed to the red-head's side.

"She's still breathing!"

Within a few minutes they had her wheeled away on a cot, her eyes staring up and up and  _up;_ without any reaction to her surroundings.

"What did you do to her!" A nurse demanded, glaring down at me while she hid her shaking hands behind her back.

She did not try and touch me.

I peered up at her with innocence, for I  _was_  innocent; it wasn't as if I had done anything wrong.

But I smiled at her anyway, trying to show her how blameless I was.

She flinched.

Sighing, I went back to staring at the ceiling, smiling at it because it was as uninterested in that girl as I was.

"I just showed her what it is like to be empty."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! :D  
> I can't wait to hear what you guys think :)


	3. The Servent of Lord Voldemort

It felt so good, this power. I had never truly felt magic until it was dancing happily along my skin, eager for me to use it.

I could almost hear it speaking to me, its seductive words dripping with temptation, dripping with assurances of endless happiness and joy.

Of course the only thing I really wanted from the magic it could not grant me.

It could not bring back the dead.

Wasn't that the fundamental law of magic though? It can take life and prolong it, but never give it back.

In a way, I hated my magic.

I hated it as it pulsed elatedly in my veins, false promises streaming from its mute mouth. Wasn't magic a coveted thing? Didn't every person alive desire to have it flowing so freely like it was now? Wasn't it a priceless gift?

Then why was it, that when  **I**  had it, it was next to  _useless?_

As for the girl's soul… it wasn't bonding with me. My soul rejected it, refused to entwine with it. In fact, the longer I held her inside me, the more I itched to banish her from my body. Her soul was so…  _indecent_. It made my skin crawl uncomfortably; it made me want to  _rip_  into my skin and  ** _force_**  her soul out of me.

I felt so  _dirty_.

…

Isn't it amazing how quickly a gift becomes a burden? A useless gift at that.

I shoved her soul into a pocket inside of me, compacted her into a tiny space as far away from my soul as I could.

I shuddered, curling into myself as I forced away the urge to claw my clammy skin.

They were watching me.

How long had they been watching me? How long had they been in the room?

"Harry Potter-"

There were three of them. One was kinda pale and sweating a lot.

"-what did you do to Ginevra Weasley?"

The other two were pretty big from my small little corner. One had pretty bronze skin, and the other had red hair… the red-head looked vaguely familiar…

… I wonder if he knew the red-head whose soul I ate.

"AGAIN, what did you do to Ginny Weasley?"

Who was this person they were asking me about?

"What did you do to my  _sister_   **god dammit!** "

The red-head's face was turning red too. I frowned slightly as I tightened my hold on my curled up knees.

He was just as annoying as the last red-head.

"Mr. Weasley, calm down! This is why I disagreed with bringing him Shacklebolt! He's too personally involved-"

"He has the right to see the man who did this to his sister!"

I am an empty horcruex.

**_"What did you do!?"_ **

I ate someone's soul.

"Get him out of here!"

And I was never going to be full again.

"We trusted you, how could you do this to her!"

The pair of men lost their hold on the red-headed man. He had not stopped shouting at me since he opened his mouth. I wonder what had made him so angry…

"You are going to tell me what you did to her and exactly how to fix it you  **bastard**!"

He ran and grabbed me by my throat, yanking me up from my passive position against the wall. I gasped, though not for air.

His grip was unrelenting on my skin, fire burning inside me as I felt the pain of his touch.

" _Don't touch me!_   ** _Stop touching me_ _!_**   ** _Let me GO_ _!_** _"_ I screamed, jerking and twisting as I tried desperately to remove his fingers from my screaming skin.

He smiled sadistically down at me and tightened his grip, "Not until you-"

He began to cough.

Coughing and coughing, soon he couldn't even stand; releasing his hold on me while collapsing in on himself.

"Ron!"

I stood rigid against the wall; staring down at the man kneeling in front of me as he doubled over, blood beginning to pour from his lips in a  _fascinating_  fountain of  ** _red_**.

"RON!"

It reminded me of  **his**  eyes, that  ** _red_**.

"NURSE!"

The bronze skinned man began pounding on the door, attracting the nurses' attention. They came as a team and began to quickly unlock the enchantments keeping me in the room, running to the red-haired man's side while flinching away from my stare.

"Breathe, keep breathing Mr. Weasley; we need a Healer in here immediately!"

Keep breathing.

"His pulse is erratic, we need to stabilize him!"

I was to keep breathing.

"SOMEBODY  **GET**  A  **HEALER**!"

It was fascinating really, feeling this much magic flowing from my body. I could see its translucent tendrils floating from me and into the red-haired man's chest; squeezing his heart and lungs.

He shouldn't have touched me.

"What happened in here!"

Did I not tell them not to touch me?

"I don't know, he just collapsed!"

Tilting my head curiously, I felt the madness begin to pulse fervently under my skin as my lips split my face into a demonic mask of heartless pleasure.

No one noticed except for the bronze skinned man, whose eyes became angry and wrathful in response.

"What have you done?!" He marched over to me with his wand drawn threateningly, his face twisted into a snarl.

I could see his soul.

"You little  _freak_ , what the fuck have you  ** _become_**?!"

A faint purple glow came from his chest, bright and untainted and  ** _whole_**.

His wand jammed into my throat and cut off my breath.

He was breathing hard through his mouth, staring down at me in disgust while invading my personal space- although he was not touching me directly...

I wonder what his soul would taste like…

" **Poena Exuro."**

I screamed.

It felt like hundreds of hands were on me, fingers of fire teasing every inch of my skin in ruthless delight.

He smiled grimly at me.

I felt my magic retreat back into me to protect me from the pain, causing the red-headed man to let out a gasp for air.

"The blockage is gone, hurry we need to repair the damage!"

How dare he…

How  **dare**  he!

The bronze man began to retreat from me, triumph on his face as he turned to look at the fallen red-head.

I grabbed his face with merciless fingers, snapping his head back to face me. He looked down at me in surprise and slight fear when he felt the strength in my bony fingers.

I was skeletal from only being fed nutrient potions during my stay in this room. I refused to eat, and as a result, my limbs could barely support me.

I shouldn't have been able to force his head down to my level; I shouldn't have been able to pry his mouth open.

But I shouldn't have been able to do a lot of things.

My magic flew instantly into my mouth and began to extract his soul. This time a purple light left his mouth and traveled into mine, leaving him sagging and blank as I dropped him with a glare.

He tasted almost…  _spicy_.

I rolled my tongue around my mouth as I swallowed, trying to identify what exactly he had tasted like. It was a hearty soul, angry yet calm as it stubbornly tried to refuse merging with the soul I had already eaten.

I heard a gasp.

I heard a scream.

I turned toward the frozen people inhabiting my cell, all of their wide horrified eyes skimming across my skin.

I smiled innocently as I stepped forward; ignoring the limp body of the bronze man I stepped on.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

They seemed to awaken at the sound of my voice, cowering and running for the open door.

"I didn't do anything wrong."

The door swung shut, a thin veil of translucent energy activating the enchantments set to keep me contained.

"I'm just doing what's in my nature."

The red-headed man my magic had attacked seemed to come alive, and reached out to grab my ankle. He dragged me down roughly, snapping the bones in my delicate leg, making me cry out in pain.

My skin was broken; my ankle was twisted to the side.

I couldn't move my leg.

He crawled over me, his eyes wild and glazed, panting from his blood covered lips.

He smiled like a demon over me, grabbing my fragile wrists and pinning them over my head.

I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes as I stared up at his face. With his face so close to my own, what was once a vague recollection became a startling memory.

I knew this man.

At least, once I had.

I couldn't remember his name, but I felt my frozen heart ache slightly as I looked up into that twisted face.

WHY was he hurting me so much? A tear escaped as the feeling of helplessness and fire crawled inside me.

WHY did my heart twist so painfully, as if he had betrayed me somehow?

I whimpered as the ache intensified, trying to wrench my hands away without the use on my magic.

My body was trembling, I wanted him to stop hurting me so badly… but my heart battled with my instincts.

We trust this man! We  **KNOW**  HIM! It seemed to scream, but then why was he  **HURTING**  me!

It hurt so bad…

The red-head only laughed at my struggle, spitting a mouthful of blood and saliva on my conflicted face.

The red-head's head exploded across the walls, splattering my face and my cloths with drops of flesh and blood.

"Why does everyone want to hurt me?"

My voice was small and hard to hear.

I didn't expect an answer.

I pushed the unmoving body off me with shaking hands, standing and swaying as I looked down at the man I was sure I once knew.

I narrowed my eyes down at him and spat on his corpse.

How DARE he treat me that way? I was sure I once trusted that man, if the echoes of what felt like betrayal were taken into account.

My heart shriveled and died in my chest, and I felt whatever innocence I had left break.

All that was left was the madness, and my love for my Master.

My Master, who my soul would always scream for.

He was the only one worthy of my love and my devotion. Trivial ties with pathetic humans like this red-head were idiotic. Why should I care about what happens to anyone but my Master?

They would only hurt me.

The only one who wouldn't hurt me, my beloved Master, was dead and gone, and I was all that was left of him.

I glared down at the pitiful heaps of flesh cowering in MY corner.

They whimpered in fear, curling away from me.

I hated them. I hated  ** _everything_**.

I smiled down at them, unaware of the coldness that slowly seeped from my body and stained the air.

I was a horcrux, I was meant to contain a HIS soul;  _ **Destined**  _to protect my Master.

Interestingly enough, as a result to being empty, I could now take and contain other souls as well. But, I wasn't created for their souls. No matter how many souls I ate and absorbed, they would never fill the gap inside me.

But at least I could still keep  _them_  from feeling whole.

And for now, that would be enough.

 


	4. Fight and Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- from here on out the Suicidal Thoughts are going to become a big focus, and might trigger bad memories or thoughts.

It was an interesting feeling, being so full and yet empty at the same time... maybe this was a different kind of whole.

Most of the souls I consumed were in fact quite filling, and if I had been anyone else, I'm sure I would have felt satisfied and maybe even happy. But I wasn't just an ordinary horcruex. I was not meant to contain such meager and average souls; I was meant to contain HIS soul.

HIS soul that my body could still remember, that my ripped soul could still remember.

But despite my comforting ache, I had to admit it was a little nice to not feel so lonely.

Smiling made the muscles on my face ache, but I felt contentment fill me as I walked out of my cell, leaving behind their empty bodies without a shred of remorse.

But before I shut the door, before I sealed away their blank faces, I couldn't help but glance in one last time.

I looked at every face with apathy, until I came across the only man whose soul I hadn't eaten.

His head was still dripping with blood, his entire face gone and falling from the walls. I grimaced, and my hand cradled my thin chest. My heart hurt, and while the ache wasn't big, it was enough for me to _feel_ something for someone other than HIM.

I hope to hell this is the last time it happens.

I turned and walked away as my magic sealed away their corpses, listening with satisfaction as the locks and alarms hummed back to life.

Each step was a struggle, my limbs jerked and popped with every movement, until I couldn't even feel the pain of walking on my ruined leg.

I was numb.

I was deaf to the screams and blind to the colors of light being aimed in my direction.

No light touched me as I continued on my journey, oblivious to everything but the twin glass doors that lead to the outside world.

What was waiting for me on the other side?

I didn’t know, but the thought of staying in the white room held less appeal.

They would never let me die.

In that white room I was sentenced to **life** with their eyes eternally judging me.

At least outside I had a chance to die.

So it was time to leave this behind me, and step forward.

The Healers soon realized that my magic had formed a barrier around me, their spells bounced off my shield and returned back to their creators in glee.

The screams were beginning to annoy me.

I tried to ignore them; however, that was when I saw a man in purple robes. His jaw was slack with shock, but his eyes were full of silent rage.

How many red-heads were there in this world? This was getting ridiculous. Though, his hair was more on the grey side then red…

His wand was up and pointing at me before I could finish my silent contemplation, and his mouth moved to form two words that I hadn't heard in such a long time.

"Avada Kadavra."

I blinked, but forced my shield to lower with a huge smile. Maybe these red-heads weren't so bad after all! He was going to kill me!

I laughed in glee, reaching out for that beautiful, _perfect_ green light.

I didn't notice the golden breath leaving my mouth.

A glinting cloud soon formed, swirling around in front of me, stealing my gaze from that lovely green to that alarming gold. A figure formed, a girl with flowing golden hair and determined eyes, her arms held out wide as she formed a shield in front of me.

Her face was hard and unforgiving as she stared into the grayed red-head's eyes, not moving a muscle even as the killing curse shot through her chest, forcing her body to arch backward.

The man who hurled the curse stared at her with horrified recognition, crumbling into himself as the girl was thrown back, her mouth open in silent scream as sparking tears fell down her cheeks.

" _Ginny_ …"

I stared, uncomprehending, as the girl flew back into me, her shimmering body scattering out into the air as if she were merely made of golden dust.

What-?

" **GINNY**!"

What-?

What the **FUCK**!

A snarl formed across my lips as I screamed a mindless scream. I sounded like a feral animal, and I no longer felt like a human.

I was _SO_ **CLOSE**!

My magic howled demonically as it flew around me, ripping apart everything it touched, sending scattered body parts flying through the air as well as destroyed pieces of furniture and glass.

I ran through that hallway on a crooked leg, random things hitting my body and tearing it open. Glass sliced through my cheek and forehead, a leg from a chair impaled my side, and a piece of metal flew clean through my shoulder and landed somewhere behind me.

I ran from this hell on earth, where death was so close and yet so _far_ , tears of frustration falling from my cheeks.

Why couldn't I just die?

_Why!?_

What had I done _wrong?_

I'm sorry I was born! I'm sorry I breathed your air God! I'm sorry I dared to live, so _please_ , **_kill_ ** me! What more do you want from me?! What else do I have to give you! I've given you my LIFE, so please take it back! I've given you my SOUL, so please, take me with it!

Why do you HATE ME SO MUCH GOD!

Why are you doing this to me!

WHY DID YOU ALLOW ME TO BE BORN!

_Why can't you allow me to die?_

I fell into the glass doors that separated me from the outside world, my red-coated fingers slipping as they grasped the glass desperately.

_Why am I still here?_

My legs shook so badly, they couldn't hold me up, and as soon as those doors slid open, I fell into the sun kissed street and rolled down the road to land at someone's feet.

I looked up into startled grey eyes, and felt relief swell in my chest as the sun smiled down at me.

"May I die now God?"

Outside hell, I _finally_ stopped breathing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone :D  
> I wanted to explain some things, in case they weren't clear in the story. 
> 
> First up, Ginny. Because the killing curse hit Ginny, it allowed her soul to move on to ‘heaven’, while at the same time defending Harry from it's effects. Because from what I know of Harry Potter lore, the killing curse kills a person by separating their soul from their body- it basically exorcises a soul. 
> 
> Also, while the souls Harry eats become submissive and dormant, they are not unaware. So, when Ginny saw Harry in danger, she forced herself out of Harry to become a tangible shield. Does that make sense? Because I feel like Ginny is just GINNY enough to still 'love' Harry even after he ate her (I will also admit that when I first wrote this story, I might have still been a BIT salty about her and Harry ending up together in cannon…).
> 
> If any of you have any other questions about this story, please let me know in the comments.  
> But anyways, after this long AN, I just wanted to say that I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!  
> I can’t wait to hear what you guys think :)


	5. The Dark Mark

_Where_ … _Where am I?_

_Is this… heaven?_

_…_

_No._

_This is Hell._

I opened my eyes to find nothing but blue skies.

No clouds met my gaze, and I suddenly realized that I could not remember the last time I had seen the sky- especially a blue one.

… I hate the sky.

"Are you alright Potter? Shit, what happened to you? Was there an attack on St. Mungos? I called the Aurors, they should be here soon- _fuck_ , why is there so much **_blood_ **-"

I looked away from the mind numbing blue, to find familiar grey eyes staring down at me. Who…

Slowly, but steadily, I came back to my senses. I finally noticed the twin arms surrounding me, holding me in a half-sitting position against someone's chest. The rest of me was sprawled out across the dirty sidewalk.

"Y-you just fell through the doors, and rolled to my feet, what the bloody hell- oh Merlin, I think I’m going to throw up."

I followed my holder's eyes, ignoring the flames that caressed me because of the contact with his skin. I tilted my head curiously when I noticed the leg of an unlucky chair protruding quite awkwardly from my side, the skin around it had turned black and blue from the short roll I had taken down the street.

Curiously, I reached out to take hold of the foreign limb, moving it left and right, and then in a circle. I felt nothing, and smiled with cracked lips; it looked like I was using the leg as a spoon while mixing cake batter.

My holder gagged into a hand that he lifted from my waist.

I froze.

My sudden glee left just as quickly as it came, replaced with confused fear.

 _Why was I_ ** _still_** **_breathing_** _?_

I had stopped, hadn't I? I had politely asked God to let me die, and here I was, in the Devil's arms with his flames eating me up from the inside out.

I was beginning to wonder if it was even **_possible_ ** for me to die.

"How-" I coughed loudly, my hand leaving my new limb in favor of covering my mouth. Blood spilled onto my shaking hand.

My holder shushed me gently, holding me tighter as he swallowed back his obvious revulsion, "I had to perform a spell to keep you breathing Potter; it will force your body to continue breathing even when your unconscious- but you can't talk while its active… wait, now that I think about it, that's not a drawback when concerning you! You should stay quiet like this more often Potter, you’re almost bearable this way."

Well… that explained why it felt like acid was swimming through my veins- it was the same spell those twice damned nurses in that thrice damned room used when I stopped breathing.

I'm going to **murder** you grey eyes.

"You know, now that I think about it… I haven't seen you in a while Potter. Mind you, I've been under House Arrest since the end of the War; but when it got lifted, I neither heard nor saw a hide or tail of you."

…

"Seriously Potter, you look like one of the Dark Lord's prisoners, what the fuck happened to you?"

…

Do I know you grey eyes?

You seem to know _me_.

Why does your magic feel so familiar?

No- _his_ magic wasn't familiar; it swam around me and tasted disgustingly stale. But something felt famil-

Oh dear God.

**_Master?_ **

I felt hope sprout like a doomed flower in my chest, blooming into something condemned even as I looked around desperately.

I saw no swish of black robes (though I saw several swishes of purple as the Aurors FINALLY responded), but even as I looked through the suddenly crowded street, I could still FEEL him.

**_Master? Where are you Master?_ **

_Is there a God after all?! Did He hear me? OH, God, THANK YOU!_ **_Master_ ** _\- you gave me back my_ **_Mas_ ** _-_

There is no God.

There is no God, and if there is, now I know for sure that he hates me.

I saw what felt so much like my Master, what killed my budded flower, and made my holder scream a scream worthy of the victims in Hell.

 _He_ ** _deserved_** **_Hell_** _, because_ **I** _was_ **IN HELL**.

I should have known.

I should have fucking known, and now I could only feel like an idiot as I stared down at silver eye's arm.

The Dark Mark.

In front of numerous eyes, magical and otherwise, I twisted in my holder's arms and tackled him to the ground.

I held him down brutally as I slowly opened my mouth, enjoying the feeling of his soul being extracted from his screaming lips.

His screams slowly lowered to whimpers, and then the blond-haired grey-eyed man was finally quiet.

His soul was an amber color that almost reminded me of an animal, and it was… _bitter_. I coughed him down, swallowing several times, and flicking my tongue in and out as I gagged.

He tasted worse than black coffee.

The shouts were almost expected, as was the sight of the multiple curses headed my way.

I looked around frantically, feeling the weight of my lungs settle in my chest as I regained the choice to stop breathing.

Red, yellow, dark green and black hit my shield with a barely heard "thwack", and rebounded viciously. I gulped, my eyes widening as their words floated into my ears.

"He killed Malfoy!"

"Sir, the Hospital looks like it was hit with a bomb!"

"Take him in for questioning!"

"Don't shoot to kill, shoot to capture!"

Out of all the scattered conversations and shouted orders, that one word caught my attention like no other.

 **_Capture_ ** **.**

They weren't trying to kill my, they were trying to CAPTURE me! They were going to shut me away again, probably in Azkaban! The Dementors… they would steal Him! All I had left was my memories of my Master, no, they couldn't take that away from me, no, NO!

I did the only thing I could do.

I ran.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who's taken the time to comment on this story of mine.  
> It really makes my day when I read your comments :)
> 
> I've also noticed that CuddlyMakani has commented on every chapter so far, so I also wanted to give them a little shout out- It really makes me happy, that you've liked my story enough to do so. I'm beyond flattered, and I hope my story keeps meeting your expectations! :D
> 
> See you guys next chapter! :)


	6. The Man with Two Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING, though its a bit late... this story does contain religious imagery and references, but it's not a big focus, and is only mentioned because of the main character's mind set.

I ached. It felt like every bone in my body was being broken and re-set over and _over_ again. My lungs burned as I panted for poisonous oxygen.

Did you know that oxygen is actually poisonous? It slowly breaks down our bodies from the inside out, from cells to tissue as we breathe it. Fun fact I learned from my science teacher when I was a little itty bitty boy.

Funny how I could remember that out of all the other things I seemed to be forgetting, then again, it seemed appropriate given my situation.

I laughed bitterly as I leaned against a thick tree. I slumped down groggily, unable to care as I slid down and sprawled across the forest floor.

I felt so dizzy, gasping for breath that I didn't want. I couldn't see straight and everything was blurred and unfocused as I stared out into the green colored forest.

**_Where are you Master?_ **

I felt so pathetic, curled up against tree roots that were apathetic and offered no comfort. I felt abandoned; used and discarded like a broken toy.

I didn’t even know when the tears started, but they came and they came with a vengeance. I couldn't remember the last time I cried, I could barely remember my name, and I had long forgotten my face. What did my face matter? I was a useless failure. I had failed my Master, I had failed my soul, and I seemed to have failed God in some way if the torture he was putting me through was taken into account.

But maybe God just hated me for what I had done? I know I did, I hated myself every minute of every day for what I had done, and

 **_I'm so sorry Master, please forgive me, I am a monster, please come back to me_ **-

I could barely breathe through my sobs as I curled into a ball, my hand pawing uselessly at my empty chest.

Colors began to float slowly from my mouth, sluggishly moving through the air to settle in clumps in front of me. For awhile they floated in the air, looking almost uncertain, before finally forming human shapes.

They looked like a colorful hallucination.

I choked out a laugh as I looked up to try and blink away my tears.

Even as the ghosts looked around themselves and examined their new forms, I could still _feel_ them. I could feel the slim wisps of magic connecting them to the emptiness inside me.

They were the souls I had taken. I had stolen them and I felt my stomach ache in pleasure at the thought. **_Now they were separated from their bodies_** , I thought to myself viciously ** _. I hope they are feeling the pain I feel now, being separated from my Master, my soul._ **

They were tethered to me now; they would follow my every command if I wished it. The only reason I allowed them this 'freedom' was because I really didn't give a damn what they did.

I recognized the Purple Man- he was once called Bronze Man, and he settled down beside me, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. The others looked at one another, and slowly followed him, settling down in a sloppy circle around me.

Their faces all held sadness and resignation.

Purple Man looked at each one of my souls individually; his expression discerning and even cold, until they landed back on me.

If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought his face was apathetic- but I did, and I saw the steel hidden underneath. Purple Man finally sighed; reaching up to remove his wispy cap and run a frustrated hand along his bald head.

"I don't even know where to begin,"

I looked away from his downcast gaze, and looked curiously at my Collection.

I had eaten three nurses; one of them was beige, one of them yellow, and another one we'll say was… _auburn_. The Healer I had eaten was a pretty peachy color, and the man who had asked me about what happened to some girl… Gina I think? He was a neon orange. And then of course there was Grey Eyes, now dubbed Amber Eyes, and the Purple Man next to me.

It was an impressive and yet saddening number. Seven.

The number taunted my memory, it felt so significant and yet I couldn't remember _why_. What could have burned that number into my memory? What could be so significant about the number seven that I felt my heart skip in sadness? What was it about the number that made it capable of increasing the pain inside my chest the longer I stared at the seven souls.

I felt like the souls were mocking me.

"Do you even know who I am?"

I looked back to the Purple man, and bowed my head in acknowledgment, "You are the Purple Man, once called Bronze Man."

I watched him sigh heavily and shake his head in exasperation, as if I had given him the answer he expected but didn't like. He then asked if I knew Amber Eyes. I glanced back at the bitter soul and felt myself gag.

"You were disgusting."

It was very amusing, the insulted look that overtook his pointy Amber face. But the Purple Man didn't seem amused; in fact, his face seemed to age before my eyes.

"Why are you growing older so quickly Purple Man?"

Yellow Nurse snorted into her hand, but looked at me with disgust in her glowing eyes. I could only stare back at her and wonder what was so disgusting about me that made her look like that.

"This is seriously _humiliating_ Potter. Over a year in St. Mungos where we tried to make you talk, and this is the most you've spoken to anyone. Even more insulting is that you sound like a deranged **five** year old."

Yellow nurse shook her head in revulsion, turning to the Auburn Nurse as she ignored my inquiring gaze.

Tilting my head, I swept my eyes across every face that surrounded me and felt a subtle ache in my heart. They all seemed to agree with Yellow Nurse, because all of them were looking at me in a mixture of loathing, fear, and anger. I couldn't really blame them, I knew of course that they couldn't exactly be _happy_ with me for eating their souls and forcing them to feel my pain, but…

Maybe I had wished that they would make my loneliness bearable.

"Look Potter, you-"

I heard something snap.

My head twisted around so fast, that my neck seemed to dislocate from my spine as my eyes locked onto a pair of wide violet.

 _Oh_ … _the_ **_hunger_**.

I could feel it building along with desperation in my stomach as I stared at the child mere feet away from me. Everything around me faded into nothing- every thought left my mind until my world revolved around the boy in the worn tan robe and scarf.

His soul.

Oh GOD, his soul felt so much like **His**. My soul cried for him even as my arms and magic reached out to embrace him.

He was so _beautiful_ to my frantic gaze. Even if he had been the ugliest creature on earth, I would have thought him more magnificent then God himself.

"Master."

Before I could process it, I was kneeling on the forest floor, crushing my hope to my chest.

He was so small. He was barely my height when I was kneeling and falling into his blissful hold. I think he held me more out of shock then anything, but nevertheless, I happily caressed his back and buried my nose into the scarf around his neck.

He smelled like blood.

I couldn't stop the happy hum from spilling from my lips. He even _smelled_ like my Master.

His soul was a bright violet that shined like a comet amongst the stars, nearly blinding me with how close I was to the holder of such a soul.

" _W_ \- _who_ are you?"

I paused my absentminded nuzzling as I took in his childish voice. Hmmm… he didn't _sound_ like my Master… but he still sounded nice.

Nodding to myself, I decided that I liked his voice despite the difference of it from **His**. It sounded foreign, in fact, it sounded a bit like an accent I heard before… I think it belonged to someone named… Vaughn? Vicky? Hmm… who cares?

"I'm empty."

I settled back onto my bottom and smiled at the startled child. "I'm so empty and you can make me full again."

I think I was starting to scare him. He began to tug his arm insistently away from me, and his eyes were wide in suspicion and shock.

I felt horrible.

"Shhhh… it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." I couldn't stop the tenderness from entering my voice as I tugged him back into my arms where he belonged.

"It's okay love… it's okay, nothing is ever going to hurt you again."

I gently tilted his head up so our eyes could meet again.

How I longed to see **red** eyes looking back at me- how I longed for the dominance of his stare and the cruelty of his grip.

But I got submissive _purple_ eyes and no grip at all as I stared down at the child I held. I felt disappointment, but also miserable acceptance.

"You are not my Master." My voice was small and weak, even to my own ears.

He had a childishly chubby face, though he wasn't very chubby at all. His nose was a little big, but it was his eyes that held dominance on his face, along with his strangely silver hair. He had been trying to hide himself in the scarf he wore around his neck, closing his eyes as he tensed, as if wishing I was gone.

But at my words his eyes cracked open, looking up at me in confusion- maybe even worry as I felt the tears come back.

I choked again on my tears as I tore my eyes away.

I crushed the child to my chest once more, this time in a plea for comfort as opposed to the instinct happiness from before.

"You are not my Master… I'll never see or feel my Master again…" He was so close. The child I held had a soul just a bright and just as dominating as my Master; just as unique.

But my Master… my Master's soul was perfect. It slotted inside me and owned me without even trying. Our souls were made to be together, to be entwined in every way.

This child’s soul, no matter how similar, did not call to me in the same way. Yes I wanted it, I wanted it _desperately_ , but I'd gladly kill a thousand children with souls just as appetizing, to simply _look_ at my Master one last time.

His soul, in the end, was not made for me.

It was the bitter truth, one I wanted to deny again and again until the end of time. No matter how many souls I came across, no matter how many I ate… every soul is unique. And no matter how close this child seemed to my Master, it would still be a cheap imitation once inside of me.

"It-it's okay…" The child was hesitant, so hesitant, but he slowly embraced me, running a hand through my hair with careful care.

I had, and have known the truth since the day I saw my Master fall at my betrayal. I would forever have this pain, and it was so stupid of me to keep going and eating when I knew I would never be full again.

But what else could I do?

"What else can I do?" I begged the child for an answer, I begged for _anyone_ to answer, because I just **_didn't_ ** know, "I want to die, I want to roll out on this ground and die, but I just _can't!_ I've tried and tried, and God just won't let me die! I want to give up; I wish for d-death… what am I supposed to do?"

"I can't die, I can't live- I can barely think anymore, what am I supposed to do, **_please_ **… tell me what to do because I have no idea…"

I don't know how long I cried in the cradle of that child's arms. I don't know how long he hummed sweet lullabies in my ear and told me everything would be okay.

I wished I could believe him.

"Life will be better one day; one day it won't hurt anymore, da? We just need to get through today and live to see tomorrow."

Those words sounded so familiar to me. I could almost remember telling myself that once. When I was his age… I can't remember much of it, but I remember the darkness. I remember darkness, and screams, and the feeling of hunger.

"It won't get better… it will never get better for me…"

The child lifted my unresisting head and forced me to meet his gaze. His eyes were hard as amethysts, but tender in the way only someone with compassion can achieve. He gently wiped away my tears on his torn sleeve, and patted my cheeks tenderly with frost bitten hands.

"To think like that is giving up, da? That is giving up and letting everyone whose hurt us win! We will show them we are better than that- we will be happy one day, even if it takes us awhile."

He smiled down at me with such optimism I choked on my tears. He looked so much like an innocent angel as he looked down at me with that soft expression, that for a moment I thought I'd died.

For a moment, I had to wonder if God himself had sent this boy to me, to take me into the afterlife.

But it was a silly thought. I knew God hated me, but perhaps he wasn't exempt of pity. This boy was so nice, so nice and soothing compared to the world I could remember through the haze in my brain- through the glimpses I had caught once I had woken up.

I wanted to keep this boy. I wanted to keep him and have this little piece of relief all to myself until God pitied me enough to kill me. Maybe it was selfish; maybe it was cruel of me to steal away this little piece of heaven I had found.

But… the thought of going back to being completely alone with nothing but my foggy memory, my guilt, and a handful of resentful ghosts stiffened my resolve.

I straightened my back with determination, and wiped away my remaining tears by myself. The boy looked up at me in cheer, probably thinking that he helped me.

When I ate those ghosts I felt no guilt- no shame, no hesitance. But _this_ **_boy_** … I could see the optimism in his eyes for a better life, a full life. I could see his happiness at the thought of helping me. I could see the kindness shining in his soul.

I was a monster. I was a monster, and I knew it with every piece of my ragged soul.

Finally I couldn't take the shame of looking into his eyes any longer, and dropped my gaze to his abused fingers, "What is your name little one?"

I would grant him one thing I had granted no one but my Master. It was little compensation for what I was about to do to him, but it was the most I could really offer. I would remember this boy. I would remember his name and his face until the day I died- it was the least I could do for the boy who had tried to help me. For the boy who made me feel guilt- who made me wish that I wasn't so selfish.

But I was.

The boy smiled a big and true smile that I was beginning to think no one but him could achieve, "My name is Ivan Braginski!"

I smiled a small broken smile at his hands and took them gently between my own callused ones. I absently rubbed his fingers in an attempt to warm them as I looked back up into his violet eyes.

They were not as beautiful as the garnet of my Master, but they were beautiful in their own right.

"Ivan Braginski. I will remember you."

I opened my mouth, and reached out to open his as well, when my eyes saw something strange.

Closing my mouth, my brow furrowed as I tried to find that elusive oddity that I had caught in the corner of my vision. When I finally found it, I froze.

I froze like a bloody block of ice because what I saw could not be fucking reality. It was a trick of the light- it was a hallucination caused from blood loss- it simply was **not** what it appeared to be!

There, there in the middle of his beautiful, _soothing_ soul, was a tear; a **fucking** tear and a **_missing_ ** section.

"No…" I stared at it. I stared and stared and felt my own battered soul scream in agony.

"No, please, God no…" I clung to Ivan desperately as I willed his soul to become perfect again- to be full.

But no matter how long I begged the child, begged **God** \- that tear waved sadly in the wind. I could sense its sadness; I could feel it reaching out far beyond the trees for its partner.

No wonder he felt so much like my Master- he had his own Horcrux out there.

My weak resolve crumpled into oblivion, I couldn't- I _couldn't_ -

I let him go. I let Ivan go and collapsed, sobbing into my hands. How could I steal him away from his Horcrux? His Horcrux that was just like me, waiting out there for its Master to come home.

How could I condemn another Horcrux to suffer as I did, when it was doing what I had failed to do? I was a failure. I had killed my Master, killed the soul he had entrusted me.

I deserved to suffer, to feel this agony because I **chose** it. Ivan's Horcrux was doing what I should've done- it was waiting for its Master to come home- to love and nurture and guide it.

"What is it, what happened?!"

 _This boy,_ I thought fondly to myself as he fell to his knees and took my wrists in hand. He pulled them away from my overflowing eyes, and looked so _worried_.

I smiled through my tears at him; I smiled to show him that he was blameless.

I really couldn't put any blame on Ivan; no, all the blame laid with me and God- Ivan had done nothing but be who he was meant to be.

He was a Master.

Ivan was becoming frantic, worriedly looking me over, and becoming even more worried as he took in my sunken stomach and the dried blood through the holes in my hospital gown.

"Wha-what happened to you? Who- do you need to go to the hospital, _how could I have not_ **_seen_ **-"

"I'm alright Ivan." Sighing, I reached up and patted him affectionately on his smooth cheek, slowly falling into his arms until my head was pillowed quite comfortably in his lap.

He continued to worry his hands through my hair, eyes full of doubt. I chuckled lightly, closing my eyes and allowing him to mother me as I relaxed. How long had it been since I felt this relaxed?

I couldn't remember, and even if I could, I don't think I've ever felt this relaxed…

Ivan settled back with a resigned sigh, continuing to eye my stomach until he finally let it go, and took my word for it that I was fine.

He glanced back up to my face to meet my eyes, his own eyes concerned and full of compassion.

"Can I do anything? You were saying you were empty, da? Tell me what you meant…"

And I did. I told him about how full I'd been once been, how wonderful it felt having my Master inside me. I told him of how ignorant I was- how I had slowly hurt and eventually killed my Master. I told him of the pain. I told him of the never ending pain, and I told him how much I hated everyone. How much I wanted them all to feel this pain, because **they** were the reason I had become like this. They brainwashed me, they had forced ignorance into me all because they wanted to kill my Master- they turned me into a weapon against the man I was destined to protect and love. I told Ivan I could barely remember my name. I told him that I didn't know what I looked like, or who anyone around me was.

I told him of how scared and how helpless I felt.

I told him about how I had wanted to consume his soul, I told him that he reminded me so much of my Master, and I told him of how kind he was. I told him that I couldn't eat his soul. I told him I couldn't eat him because he was someone else's Master, and that they were waiting for him to claim them.

I told him they were lucky.

When I could say no more, I shut my mouth and awaited judgment. This child named Ivan Braginski hadn't uttered a single sound during my monologue, he had kept his face blank as my eyes glazed over with memories, and as I clung to his hand for support.

He didn't even flinch when I told him what I had been planning to do to him.

I hide my eyes underneath my overgrown fringe as I hid from his knowing purple gaze. It was so intimidating, this silence; Ivan held my fragile hope for forgiveness in his hands. If anyone could forgive me, it would be this child that I had almost damned.

I didn't care if God forgave me, because I was sure he wouldn't- but I still craved for someone to tell me that I wasn't _evil_. That I hadn't done anything wrong- that it wasn't my fault. I knew that I was innocent, I knew that I hadn't done anything _wrong_ , but… as I remembered what I had been about to do to Ivan, I couldn't help but question just how much of a Monster I was _forced_ to be and how much I **_chose_ ** to be.

"… What is your name?"

It was almost agonizing to hear such a monotone in place of Ivan's usual optimism. I had hoped for forgiveness, or even disgust, anything was better than not knowing.

"… Harry. My name was Harry Potter."

I felt fingers gently move my fringe, and found my wide eyes meeting warm violet.

"You are in pain Harry Potter. You are in pain, and I do not blame you for wanting relief." I gasped as a smile once more crossed his pale lips, eyes shining down at me with compassion that hadn't dimmed in the slightest.

"You didn't betray your Master, Harry. You were tricked, and I'm sure whenever you see your Master again, he will forgive you."

Whenever I see my Master again. I smiled until I felt my cheeks ache, and I laughed with joy I didn't know I was capable of. Ivan believed I would see him again, and hearing him say it, I felt no doubts. He had given me more than I could have ever asked for; he had given me hope again.

I reached up and pulled him down into my arms for a tight hug, hearing his squeal and giggles echo with my own overbearing laugh. Such relief… to know that someone didn't judge me, to know that they understood me, to know that a **_Master_ ** thought I wasn't at fault… I felt such relief and such hope, that for a moment I thought I was glowing.

After our laughter calmed, we laid contently side by side underneath the blue sky that I still hated, but that wasn't nearly as annoying. A few mindless minutes later I tilted my sleepy gaze to my companion, and was surprised to see him stare at the sky with such longing.

"… What do you see Ivan?"

He refused to tear his gaze from above, and I didn't push any further, waiting peacefully for him to tell me as I tried in vain to see what he saw that was so desirable.

"… I see warmth."

And as he had done for me, I listened patiently to Ivan's tale.

"I grew up in Russia. For 6 years I lived there; I felt only coldness and saw only grey skies that promised more snow. I hate the cold. I've always hated the cold, and yet, no matter what I do, I can not get warm. Even after moving here, I'm still so cold.

"This blue sky means no snow to me. It means life. His eyes look so much like this beautiful sky…

"Everyone thinks I'm scary and that I don't feel anything; everybody hates me. They distance themselves from me as if there’s something wrong with me, no matter how hard I try to prove there isn’t.

"Even _he_ hates me." Ivan turned away from the falsely cheerful sky. I heard a small sniff.

"His eyes are happy, as free as the blue sky and his hair reminds me of sunflowers… I love sunflowers so much…

"His smile… I want him to smile at me and nobody else. His smile is so big and sweet, I want it all to myself. And he is so **warm**.

"When we met, our hands touched, and I had never felt anything that felt that **good**. I wanted to grab him and wrap myself around him until he finally chased away the cold…

"But whatever he felt when he first touched me… it obviously hadn't felt good for him. His eyes, those beautiful perfect eyes, turned _cold;_ his smiling lips frowned, and he ripped his hand away from me with such a look of horror… I almost wanted to die, with how quickly he rejected me.

"But that warmth… that _smile_ that promises me endless happiness… I couldn't give him up. Ever since that day, I've tried to talk to him, to get him to like me, or at least convince him that I'm not a 'commie' bent on hurting everyone around me.

"How can he be so sweet and yet say such hurtful things to me Harry?"

Ivan's eyes shimmered with tears of confused hurt, looking to me in hopes that I would help him understand. I had to look away and instead turned my gaze back up to the sky.

I was hesitant to ask Ivan, but… "What do you feel when you touch him?"

There was a lengthy pause, but Ivan's shaky voice soon filled the air around us.

"I feel warm and… loved. I feel happy and content, though I also feel want. I want more contact; I want more and more and more until we are **one** , and there is nothing left to give…"

I smiled knowingly at the sky, nodding my head at the possessive tone and closing my eyes as I remembered the first time my Master touched me.

"The pain was excruciating. The first time my Master touched me, I wanted to die; it felt like my head had split open."

I heard Ivan gasp, and felt his eyes turn to me in alarm, "Did Alfred feel-"

"No Ivan. I felt that way because I rejected my Master, I rejected our bond, and it was punishing me. Your Alfred doesn't know he's your Horcrux yet."

I sat up and gave Ivan a smile as I watched him drink my words as if they were spoken by Truth himself, "Your Alfred doesn't know of the bond between you, and therefore cannot reject it. I don't know what he felt but I bet it scared him, and that's probably why he's treating you so badly."

It was hard for me to remember that Ivan was a child, no older than seven. It was even harder for me to remember that sometimes the things I said would make no sense to him, for he didn't know what I knew.

"A bond?" The silver haired boy asked longingly, looking through the trees with glazed eyes, thinking of his own illusive Horcrux.

I wonder if my own Master ever felt that same longing to be with me, ever looked into the distance with that insatiable hunger in his gaze...

"I do not think that is so Harry. The way you described your relationship with your Master... it seems... too... _unique_ for me and Alfred to be the same, da? We are just children, and children can be cruel, and they can feel things they cannot explain either." A look of miserable anguish overcame his longing, and Ivan sat up to bow his head in sadness, twisting his red hands together nervously in his lap.

"I came out in the woods today to think, Harry... to make a decision.

"I... I can't take much more of this. It hurts enough being rejected by everyone around me before I've spoken a word to them, but for Alfred to look at me and listen to my pleads for friendship- for him to **_still_** mock, insult, and reject me... I can't handle it. I can't keep hoping for him to smile at me, for him to sooth me, only so he can take that hope in his small _perfect_ hands and rip it into tiny pieces.

"It is a nice thought, no; it is actually it is a _wonderful_ thought that we are connected so closely, that he **belongs** to **_me_**. But... in my life I've never had such luck. Every good thing in my life has been taken away, and I cannot hope that Alfred is different when he looks at me with such suspicion and disgust. No, he is not my Horcrux Harry- he is only an obsession that I need to let go. Seeing you, hearing you talk about your Master... it makes me wish that someone can love me as completely as you love your Master one day, but Alfred..." Ivan could say no more, and I could only watch in frozen shock as tears slipped down his cheeks and fell onto his lap.

The shock I felt I could not describe to anyone in that moment. A Master giving up his Horcrux... just the thought made my entire body and soul shudder with horror. To not have my Master's attention on me and only me, to not be the object of his obsession and every thought... it seemed an even greater Hell then the one I lived in.

I couldn't control my instinctual reaction- I couldn't remember that despite Ivan being a Master, he still was young, vulnerable, and easily hurt; I couldn't understand that Alfred had reacted just like I would have at his age; and I couldn't rein in the desperate madness that consumed me as the peaceful mood that had settled around us shattered.

"Don't give up on him!" I grabbed Ivan's upper arms so tight I could feel his bones, shaking him madly as his head shot up. I stared into his startled violet eyes desperately, trying with all my might to convey my pain, to SHOW him exactly what would happen to his Alfred if he left.

"He needs you; he wants you- he just doesn't know it yet! I hated my Master! I wished my Master dead!" I was babbling, words were pouring out of my mouth in an endless stream I couldn't make sense of, "I killed my Master! I killed the one I was supposed to protect, I killed his soul I killed my soul, I killed myself!" The longer I talked the more reality left me- Ivan left me, and my real master took his place.

I could no longer see Ivan; I could no longer feel myself shaking him urgently. All I could see was my Master, staring down at me with his stunning, brilliant, _glorious_ eyes.

"Oh Master…" I released the child I could no longer see or feel, and reached up for **Him** , "Master **I'm so sorry** , please forgive me, please come home **I'm so empty** I need you and only you **please** … "

My Master smiled coldly down at me, and my lips responded. A happy smile stretched across my face as his long pale hand reached out to touch my longing skin.

I tilted my head submissively, blinking up contentedly at my Master, his soul blinding and demanding and **red** as it caressed my skin. Such peace… I couldn't remember EVER having such peace flow through me. For one blissful moment… the ache was gone. I felt his soul reaching out and filling me and I was full.

**"Voldemort..."**

And then it was gone.

Just like that, my Master was **gone** , leaving me shaking and empty with only my ache to remember him by. I bit my lips as I looked into the empty space that had held my Master only seconds ago, "Voldemort... I miss you so much Master."

I felt small cold hands hesitantly touch my arm in comfort, and turned my reluctant gaze to meet confused purple.

"Harry... ?"

I swallowed my useless tears, and straightened my spine as I composed myself. Ivan needed me; he needed my words, just like I needed his at the moment.

 **I would see my Master again**. Ivan had told me this with utter confidence, and it was my turn to return the favor by telling him what I knew with just as much conviction. Ivan needed to be sure; he needed my assurance if he was ever going to become a true Master. He needed to have something to grasp when his Horcrux was rejecting him, and if it felt anything like how I felt just at the _thought_ of my Master rejecting me... then I could understand how he could consider abandoning a Horcrux he wasn't even sure was his. But I was sure. I could see the way his soul glowed whenever he spoke his boy's name; see the way his tear danced happily whenever Alfred was mentioned.

"You are Alfred's Master, Ivan Braginski. He holds your soul happily inside himself, and will continue to do so until the day you both die. He loves you, but he is a child and if he's anything like me, he's stubborn. He will not want to be forced into accepting you like his body wishes, he will fight you every step of the way and will hurt you in an attempt to drive you away." Ivan's face fell with each word until his face looked so grim I had to smile.

"You have given him everything he wants. He wants your attention, your devotion, your compliments, and your smiles. A Horcrux wants only that and to be one with you. That is all we want in life, for you to be happy, and for you to make us happy in return." Ivan opened his mouth, questions clear in his eyes, but I shushed him with a lazy finger, and a knowing smile.

"Do not give up on your Horcrux, punish your Horcrux."

He looked so confused it made me laugh out loud. Shaking with laughter, I had to grasp my chest because it felt like my ribs were trying to escape. After calming down to the occasional giggle, my hand still held protectively around my ribs, I clarified my plan.

Ivan would have his Horcrux, the past would NOT repeat with him. I refused to let what happened to me happen to this boy I had become attached to.

"Punish him. He claims he doesn't want your attention, so don't give it to him."

"But I thought you said-"

"You won't be giving up on him- you are simply giving him what he asked for like the amazing Master you are." My smile might have been slightly sadistic, but Ivan didn't seem to notice, if his worried glance at the sky indicated anything.

"Don't worry." Bringing his gaze back to me, my smile saddened. I brought him into a final hug, "You are going to be an amazing Master, Ivan. Alfred is going to love you more than anything in the world; he won't be able to stay away long."

Slowly, ever so slowly, I released him, smiling down at him as tears of hope and sadness fell from his eyes. He knew, just as I did, that we would not see each other again in this lifetime, but…

We would meet again.

I leaned down and placed a chaste, proud kiss on his forehead, gently wiping away his tears with my thumbs, "I will watch over you little one." Smiling down at his devastated face, I felt my heart swell with happiness when he immediately grabbed onto me, and clung to me with a fierceness I loved.

Running an affectionate hand through his silver hair, I gently tipped his head up from where it was buried in my dirty gown.

"You are going to change the world, you and your Alfred little one. And no matter what happens, no matter who tells you you're different, or evil, or deserve to die- remember that I am proud of you. I am proud and thankful that I met you before I died. You are an amazing person Ivan."

Tenderly, I forced him to relinquish his distressed grasp on my cloths, and pushed his arms away from me.

He was sniffing furiously, looking into my warm gaze with equal sadness. We had found solace in each other, him from a rejecting world, and me from the pain.

But… the world and my pain were still there. We couldn't hide forever; while my life had ended, Ivan's was waiting out there for him to embrace it.

"Goodbye Ivan."

Reluctantly, Ivan began to back away; his tears stopped flowing, though his face remained grim with grief.

"Thank you… Harry Potter. For everything."

He turned and ran into the trees as if he knew he wouldn't be able to leave if he stayed a moment longer, his pink scarf waving goodbye to me in the wind.

Silence echoed around me as I watched him leave. I was alone again.

Or, perhaps not completely alone.

"I can't even bring myself to hate you, you know that?"

I looked away from Ivan's retreating back, finding the Purple Man standing next to me, staring after him as I had been. His arms were crossed, and his expression was pained, almost regretful as he turned to meet my curious gaze.

"You sucked out my soul without an inch of regret- and you threatened to do the same to a child! You are a selfish bastard who doesn't care who he hurts, even if they were once your friends- you have no sense of self-preservation or right and wrong, and yet I _still_ **_can't_** hate you."

Sighing in defeat, the Purple Man sunk down next to me, his eyes once more straying to Ivan, who disappeared into the trees, leaving only a glimpse of soft pink behind.

"That boy is going to become the next Dark Lord isn't he?"

I was… happy.

I had helped Ivan. I had given him hope- I had given him a _future._  It felt… nice… to know that he wouldn't suffer the same fate as me and my Master. He would have his Horcrux stand next to him, and his Horcrux would KNOW to appreciate and protect him.

"Yes. He is destined to succeed where me and my Master failed."

I couldn't see the future. I was not a born seer, and yet… in that moment… as the Purple Man helped me stand on shaking legs, I could see it. I could see the strong man that boy would become, and I could see his mischievous blue-eyed Horcrux standing by his side.

"Ivan Braginski… remember Lord Voldemort and remember the fool called Harry Potter. Remember us... and never become like us."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I know this chapter is a bit (a lot) different from usual, and that I actually introduced a character not native to the Harry Potter series- but I really like the way this spiced up my story, and I can't wait to hear everyone's opinions! :D  
> Ivan and Alfred are Original characters, but I wanted to mention that their looks and personalities were inspired by hetalia characters.  
> The hetalia world, and it’s concept of countries as people is not going to be a part of the story, and I only wanted to give a shout out to it because it was a big inspiration for me.
> 
> This is NOT going to be a crossover. In this story, Ivan and Alfred are the cannon future dark lords who will reshape the wizerding world. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think about this chapter, especially how you thought I wrote Harry and Ivan. 
> 
> As always I'll answer all questions to the best of my ability, and I'll try to reply when I can!  
> See you next chapter :D


	7. A Sluggish Memory

The walk down the Alley was almost peaceful.

Purple Man walked beside me, glancing around nervously as he hovered, "Harry, why are you-"

"Because it's time."

Purple Man stuttered to a halt, looking at me with big eyes full of confusion. "What-" The people around me were cautious; they glanced nervously around themselves as they walked in groups from store to store. I walked down the center of the alley without a single wayward glance, their eyes continuously shifting from me as tendrils of magic clouded me from their view.

"What do you mean?"

I didn't spare Purple Man another glance, and simply continued on until I was in the shadow of the doors at Gringotts. I didn't even notice him disappear into mist.

The moment the goblin's pushed open their doors, I was surrounded by gold, silver, and jewels of the purest color that shined in the light that spilled through the glass ceiling.

But despite its grander and its beauty, it looked… beaten. It made me feel almost relaxed as I walked up to a free Goblin. I noticed that all of their black greedy eyes were staring at me in disbelief and terror, and I saw the customers throwing confused glances in my direction, before they snapped at their tellers in frustration; trying to regain their attention.

But whether they got it back or not was not a concern of mine. I was here for me and me alone.

I smiled as I halted in front of a desk with the words 'Teller' inscribed on a nameplate, feeling relaxed and content as I nodded to the Goblin in greeting, "Hello, I was wondering if I could talk to someone about my vaults."

This seemed to startle the Goblin out of his shock; he shook himself and gave me a confused but still fearful glance, "Of course Mr. Potter- of course, right this way sir." He led me out of the room, still occasionally glancing back to see if I was following him. I could feel their heavy stares on my back; I could almost taste their fear- their loathing. I wonder what I had done that scared them so… was it something I had done, or was it because of who my Master was?

I was brought into a private room with a scarred Goblin sitting behind a grand desk, his eyes were apathetic as they took in my appearance.

"Hello Mr. Potter."

The teller I had spoken to quickly left the room, and the door closed behind him with a loud crack. The goblin behind the desk stared at me for several seconds; he took in my face, my cloths, and finally gestured for me to take the seat in front of his desk.

I sat without complaint, and waited patiently for the goblin to speak.

The goblin went back to the papers on his desk and ignored me for several minutes, before he paused. Sighing, he took off his spectacles and met my eyes, "You are a fugitive Mr. Potter; an escaped mental patient whom the press claims has 'sucked the souls' out of 9 respectable witches and wizards- two of whom were your friends."

Leaning back in his chair, his fathomless eyes continued to judge me as I waited for him to finish.

"These facts mean nothing inside this bank, in fact, **only** the fact that you could enter this room and still look like Mr. Potter should matter."

I smiled gently at the goblin, folding my hands contently in my lap, "The keyword is 'should', is that not right, Mr. Goblin?"

Snorting into his hand, Mr. Goblin gave me a bloodthirsty smile as he gestured to the long, painful looking scar that started at his left temple and continued across his mutilated neck to disappear under his shirt.

"Your so called 'Master' did this to me the day you rode our prized dragon right out of our own ceiling."

I couldn't help myself, I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed until I couldn't breathe, because honestly? It was hilarious!

The memories were slow to come, and sluggish in their incomplete rhapsody; I could catch glimpses however, and it was enough to completely stifle my laughter.

 _Pale and bleeding skin and a bonelike face looking out at the open sky in wonder… wings scarred beyond recognition… golden cups that sang of bliss, screaming goblins and angry_ **_red_ ** _orbs-_

"You were very naughty- naughty naughty **naughty**."

My eyes were wide open and felt like they were stretching out of my face and would plop themselves happily onto this goblin's paperwork.

" _You lied to me, you tricked me, you tried to_ kill _me, and_ my **Master**."

The room began to darken, and my limbs twitched spastically against the ornate guest seat as my hands reached out to strangle the

 **_damn garbage who dared survive my Master's rampage- my Master's_ ** **vengeance-**

" _You should be_ **dead** _ **,** you should _ **all be dead** _ **,** I should _ **kill** _you all,_ **_my Master wanted to kill you_ ** **-** "

Mr. Goblin couldn't even scream as black tendrils of giggling magic plunged into his open mouth and savagely ripped their way inside him.

I smiled, my posture relaxing as the room was bathed in the scent of rust and copper. My eyes closed in contentment as blood splattered onto my face and stained my teeth.

"Mr. Goblin was marked by death, oh my, oh my- whatever will happen next?"

I listened the flapping of his body and heard the sounds of it convulsing along with the gurgle of his smooth, sticky insides becoming his outsides as my magic dragged his organs out of his mouth and onto his desk.

"One by one we All. Fall. **Down**."

I opened my eyes and turned my smile to the goblins standing in the doorway; their ax's hanging limp while their eyes stared without comprehension.

"You would all be blood stains against flawless gold if I didn't need you."

 

 

The walk down the Alley was quite peaceful, I was even skipping.

The sound my broken leg made against the stone pavement was pure music, and I even sung a happy tune to go along with it.

"Dun dun dun, da da dum~"

I paused when I noticed Purple Man beside me once again- he was observing me with pained eyes. I continued on, my tune picking up rhythm as my other ankle twisted awkwardly after it landed in a crack I had not seen.

"You are going to kill yourself."

...

I didn't correct him. And that was answer enough.

 


	8. The Parting of Ways

"I think I already knew."

I ignored Purple Man's soft voice that whispered across the branches and landed delicately in my ear.

"The way you looked at that boy, Ivan- and the way he looked back at you…"

Ivan Braginski, the Violet Master. I watched him from between coarse branches, unfeeling to the itches of the leaves and of the splinters entering my vulnerable skin. He was dressed for the mightiest of Siberia's winters, his face barely recognizable because it was so well hidden behind his scarf.

"You told him you would watch over him- though I doubt you meant it in the literal way you are currently demonstrating."

I snorted quietly, my magic keeping me well hidden despite my excellent camouflage. I needed to hide from not only this boy's sight- but his magic as well. Purple Man's comments stopped, and suddenly he was in my way, his face determined and stubborn as he crossed his transparent arms in front of his chest.

"Why, Harry?"

Now, wasn't **that** a loaded question?

I sighed, waving my hand and moving the Purple Man out of my line of sight. He huffed angrily and fought his connection to my core, but I maintained absentminded control as I watched Ivan pause in front of a small school.

It was quaint and quite cute, the squeals of the children playing on the playground loud enough to reach even my own ears.

Ivan hesitated for long moment, stiff; his posture showing self-assurance and paranoia as he took stock of his surroundings. It wasn't hard to see the looks the other children were giving him, or to realize that the amount of squeals and happy shrieks had quickly diminished into near silence.

I wanted to hear screams again. Only this time, they wouldn't be of joy.

Ivan- that wonderful boy.

I smiled awkwardly as I watched Ivan's head lift up proudly, his walk becoming confident (almost _aggressive)_ as he made his way to the shade of a tree standing just at the edge of a swing set. The children scattered like scared rodents, running to hide back in their dark holes as Ivan sat calmly and opened his backpack to take out a book.

"He's-"

"He is our future."

Purple Man looked back at me, his posture tense in a forced position, though I allowed his eyes free rein.

My body was as relaxed as a drugged institution inmate, my eyes following the lonely searching- _pleading_ arch of his torn soul. There, nestled at the center of the den of iniquity, laid a soul as blue as the clear skies of an island paradise- a small sliver of violet nestled possessively at its center; so protected, it almost looked like a darker shade of blue that the sunlight had created.

"And he is our Hope."

For several moments all there was to be heard was silence. I watched Alfred (for who else could he be?) walk up to his Master, and saw the resulted scene play out with contentment.

"Oh Master, I wish you could see this." Purple Man ceased to exist in that moment, all that I could process was the scene in front of me, and the feeling that my Master was watching. That he was listening.

"I wish a lot of things Master, a whole lot of selfish things. I wish that I had been smarter, I wish that I could have been held in your arms as your Horcrux... and I wish that I hadn't killed you."

My arms folded protectively over my purple and black stomach, the hole in my side itched from the splinters that had been embedded in my skin. My stomach was rocking furiously against my deflated abdomen, and tears fell uselessly and unconsciously from my eyes.

At the bottom of the matter, everything I am was useless.

I allowed Purple Man control once more, I allowed him to take me into his arms in an attempt to comfort me. I even allowed myself to feel his touch.

It didn't burn too bad.

"You ask me why, but what is it you really want to know about this broken human?"

The children were staring at Ivan. The teachers were staring at Ivan. _Alfred_ was staring at Ivan.

"Why am I so empty?"

Ivan smiled.

"Why I killed those men without batting an eyelash? Why I sucked out all these souls, including your own?"

The bell rang.

"Or is the big 'why' you want to know: Why do I want to kill myself?"

The children were herded in like sheep, the teachers their patient shepherds as they ushered them gently behind the tall doors.

Ivan was among them, a wolf among the sheep- his head high and his smile sweet. And though I knew he didn't know I was here- that he couldn't possibly know- I swore his scarf waved knowingly at me before he disappeared into the crowd.

... 

Purple Man was quiet. So was I.

I knew what he wanted to know, just as I knew he knew not to push me. Soon, even I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"I want to see my Master again."

_Did I really want to disappear?_

I have never been afraid of death, nor have I ever found my life to be very important compared to everyone else. I suppose I have my relatives to thank for that.

But did I really _want_ to die?

Yes. Yes I did _, I was so tired._

My body was weak, though it contained enough power to drive any other man to insanity. Even now I could feel its numbing effects in my limbs, and I hated every minute of it.

Maybe his question should be: Did I _deserve_ to die?

I felt hesitant to answer that question, flashes of images I had tried to bury in my mind came forth; though out of all the faces I saw, I only recognized **His** face.

"Is that why you took the-"

"No."

Had I once thought His face ugly?

Looking back on it now, I could only see Him as beautiful; radiant and fierce as a Dark Lord should be.

I destroyed his beauty. I betrayed him and the soul he had entrusted me to keep safe. I failed in my duty as a Horcrux, and this was my punishment.

 **No**.

**No, I did not deserve to die.**

**I deserved to live with this** **_emptiness_ ** **every day for the rest of fucking** **_eternity_** **.**

"… Harry?"

I looked up to Purple Man's face, and gave him a pathetic smile; shuddering and pushing myself out of his hold at the same time.

"You know what the killing curse does, don't you? It separates the soul from the body. I can remember- I _remember_ the feeling of **_floating_ ** as happy red eyes stared down at me. I remember the feeling of emptiness and then the feeling of becoming **full** again."

His eyes were wide, and his mouth was slack.

"I am not a full soul Purple Man- I lost more in that green light then I ever knew. But I know now- **I know now.** "

Nothing would change.

If I left myself live out my punishment, I would still have this power; I would still have these souls living inside of me, and I would _still_ not be able to right the wrongs I had done to Him.

_How? How could I repent for what I had done? For what I was doing now?_

Once I would have thought myself a monster, once I had been innocent. I had been human once, an ordinary man.

The last time I had felt human was that Day.

"... I am not going to kill myself."

I held up a hand as I turned my back to him, silencing any sputtered comments and accusations, my mind once more floating in contented bliss. The future was bright, the clouds were blocking out that annoying blue sky, and I could almost taste the wishes on my tongue.

_I wish that I could go back in time and erase my existence._

_I wish that I could go back and make sure I was never born. My parents would still be alive. My Godfather would still be alive._ **He** _would still be alive._

I stepped out of the tree line with leaves decorating my hair in a chaotic statement of stubbornness; the stare of a single jogger enough to tell me that I looked terrifying.

I began to once more skip down the muggle streets of London to the music of my broken and twisted legs, singing merrily.

I had all of this power, all these abilities, but I couldn't change anything. This was something that I had taken for fact.

But wide violet eyes, innocent smiles, and hesitant love had sparked a question from the depths of my broken and twisted heart.

What if I **could**?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone.  
> We’ve finally caught up to where I left off all those years ago- so close to the ending. And what a point to leave off too, man, younger me was a mean tease.
> 
> I’ve been updating this story pretty regularly, since these chapters were already typed up and I was just editing them a bit- but unfortunately because I’m still in the process of writing the ending, I won’t be updating every other day anymore :(
> 
> No Worries though! The next chapter will be up within 2 weeks. I would say 1 week, but I’m gonna say 2 weeks just in case something stupidly time consuming happens.
> 
> This story is my priority. 
> 
> This story has been waiting for too long to be finished. I noticed that some of my readers recognized this story from my old site, and I wanted to take a moment to apologize to you.  
> I’m sorry I disappeared, and I’m sorry I’ve made you guys wait so long for an ending.
> 
> I’m going to try my best to make this ending the best it can possibly be.


	9. The Lion and the Serpent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It’s the first one I’ve written from scratch in a long time.

“You’re off your rocker, Potter.”

“That kinda rhymes…”

“Don’t change the subject!”

I let out a tired sigh as I gave the ghost beside me a weak glare, before turning back to the mirror in front of me. My glare softened as my hands caressed its glossy surface, before reaching over and staining my hands with the blood I had drained into a convenient bowl.

“This is insanity!”

“Well, we’ve already established that I’m not exactly sane-”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it Potter!” Amber Eyes scowled down at me as he waved his hands wildly around like a floppy chicken, “People don’t just throw random potion ingredients in a cauldron and hope for the best! Its illogical, its mad, and it doesn’t provide _results!”_

“Well then, what would you suggest oh knowing one?”

“OH SHIT!” Amber Eyes grabbed my hand before it could finish the rune I was drawing on the mirror, he was panting for breath even though he didn’t need to breathe, his expression stressed, “Why did I have to get eaten by an idiot who didn’t even take Ancient Runes…”

I pouted at Amber Eyes as he pulled my hand away from the mirror, and glanced back at the notebook so I could double check the mistake I was apparently making.

“... oh.”

Amber Eyes let out a frustrated sigh, “‘Oh’ he says, ‘I almost exploded a one of a kind ancient artifact’ he says. You’re a walking disaster Potter.”

“You don’t have to be so mean, you know.”

“I decided to help you out of the kindness of my heart- and _this_ is the thanks that I get?”

I stared at the amber ghost as he brought up a hand to his forehead, his head dramatically thrown back and his expression full of artful suffering.

“You’re really annoying.”

Amber Eyes froze mid lament, his mouth gaping open like a fish as he dropped his hand and turned to stare at me with glittering puppy eyes.

“... Why are you so cruel to me, Potter…?”

I let out another sigh, this one tinged with my own personal suffering, as I pointedly turned away from the sniveling ghost, and back to the runes he had drawn for me.

The notebook in my hand was full of Amber Eyes’ drawings, diagrams, as well as explanations for the steps of the ritual I would be completing. It was thoughtfully thorough, and though I found the ghost annoying at times, I still couldn’t help but feel a bit fond of him.

After all, it was all because of him- of his past connection to my Master and his research, that I was able to make it this far.  

My Master’s old lab was full of incomplete projects and theories, and Amber Eyes (along with some other Death Eater whose soul I had recently eaten) had been assigned the task of researching Time Magic.

I felt truly lucky as I steadied the hand that was about to continue drawing the first rune on the mirror. There would be no room for mistakes past this point. I needed to concentrate.

Amber Eyes fell quiet as I set to work, and continued to watch me with an unreadable look on his face.

 

 

I cut off a dragon’s arm in order to use its blood to paint a rune, and Amber Eyes had been pouting ever since.

“You were the one who said using blood from different creatures, in accordance to their compatibility with each rune, would make the effects stronger and more likely to succeed!”

“I _know…_ ”

“Then **_what_ **is your problem?”

“ **You** are my problem!”

“Ugh…”

I rolled my eyes skyward, and decided to ignore the suddenly unreasonable ghost as I continued drawing the last rune on the mirror. After several minutes of tense silence, I painted the last curve and pulled my hand away from my masterpiece.

I stared at the perfect rune, and couldn’t help but feel a sense of unreality. It was almost complete- our plan, the ritual, the preparation was almost complete!

I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest.

**Master.**

Joy- pure and perfect _joy_ filled me as I stared into the eyes that were reflected on the mirror’s surface. The new rune was still red, and had yet to fade into the silver sheen that would mark the completed merging of the rune into the mirror.

“Hey Potter…”

“Hmm?” Almost all of my attention was focused on channeling my magic into the latest rune I had drawn. I ignored the Auburn Nurse’s screams as I forced her soul into the rune to complete the ritual.

Amber Eyes shifted behind me, and I could taste the strangest emotion on my tongue when I tapped into our link.

“You really don’t have to do this you know.”

After one last blood curdling scream, I locked the Auburn Nurse’s soul into the mirror. The rune lightened in color until it was a translucent silver that almost disappeared against the glassy background of the mirror. Runes of the same color covered every inch of the mirror, though they looked like shadow images against the mirrors surface, and did nothing to block the image reflecting back at me.

For that I was grateful.

“Do what?”

I reached up to wipe the sweat off my forehead, and wrinkled my nose when I looked down at the sweat soaked clothes I was wearing.

“You know… all of this.”

I discarded my hospital robe weeks ago, mainly because it was filthy and conspicuous. I had grabbed an outfit that looked interesting from a muggle store, and now I was promptly deciding that it was time to get another one.

This one was starting to smell a bit.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Amber Eyes.”

I blinked, and looked down at my blood stained hands and wondered if I had just wiped blood onto my face.  

Amber Eyes let out a groan, and when I turned to look at him, my eyebrow raised when I saw what seemed to be a silent argument going on. He was pulling and messing his hair up as he shouted at an imaginary person, and froze like a deer in headlights when he saw me facing him.

“Ah ha ha… yeah…” Amber Eyes cleared his throat awkwardly, and then took in a deep breath before giving me a look with an emotion I couldn’t identify, “Look, Potter- what you’re doing is a form of suicide you know?”

I paused for a moment to take in what Amber Eyes was implying. 

I had said that I wasn't going to kill myself- I had promised both Amber Eyes and Purple Man that I wouldn't, before we had cemented exactly what our plan was. But still... even if I died attempting to accomplish my goal, it wasn't like it truly mattered. 

I stood up to stretch, cracking my knuckles even though the discomfort from holding my hand steady for hours was already fading away, “So?”

“So?! Potter, there’s so much to see, so much to do in this world…” Amber Eyes got a faraway look on his face, a look that spoke of longing and sadness, “You know… ever since I realized that I’m never see a new town again, that I’ll never get married, that I’ll never have kids… I find myself wanting those things.”

Amber Eyes let out a bitter laugh, and then seemed to collapse in on himself like a puppet whose strings were cut. Amber drops fell from his eyes, and disappeared like dust in the wind once they fell from his face.

“My mother’s alone in this world now. The Malfoy line ends with me… it ends with Death Eater **filth** , who wasn't good enough to be redeemed, or evil enough to be remembered.” Amber Eyes let out a long sigh, and gave me a soft look that didn’t suit his normally grouchy face, “But you still have a choice Potter.”

Amber Eyes reached out to touch my shoulder, patting me gently with an imploring look on his face.

“You don’t have to be the last Potter, or even the Boy Who Lived- you can be whoever you want to be, live however you want to live.”

I stared at Amber Eyes’ soft expression, and knew that I should have felt something. I should have felt cared for, perhaps? Warm?

But I felt nothing.

“I don’t have anything to live for.”

The skin around the amber ghost’s eyes scrunched up as his expression became fanatic, “But you can find something! You don’t have to do this- you don’t have to risk your life trying to finish this thing! The Dark Lord never even finished his research on Time Magic!”

I shrugged carelessly, a small smile on my face as I walked past Amber Eyes so I could wash the blood off my hands. I was also going to splash some water on my face, just in case. It never hurt to be thorough after all.

“Is he really worth that much to you?!” Amber Eyes was hyperventilating as he tried to reach out and grab my shoulders to shake some sense into me. His hands passed harmlessly through my body as I ignored him and continued on my journey to the reading nook, where I could go over the remnants of my Master’s research.

“You **hated** him Potter- you hated him more than anyone else- **_why_ **are you risking so much for him?!”

I reverently caressed the parchment under my fingers, and the beautiful calligraphy that graced its pages. I couldn’t understand even half of what my Master had written, but that didn’t stop the admiration from growing in my heart. Because my Master was truly a genius, a man created to do great things.

And I had ruined everything.

I could feel Amber Eyes’ desperation seeping in through my bond with him, and was almost tempted to shut off the link so that I could spend the next few hours in peace- but I respected this ghost enough not to subjugate him as I had the others.

And so I forced my eyes to look up from the evidence that my Master had lived, in order to meet the amber ghost’s burning gaze.

I took a moment to ponder the words that Amber Eyes had been spouting, the meaningless pleas for me to reconsider my plan.

Why?

He asked me why was I doing this.

It was a form of suicide, even if my death wasn’t an intentional outcome at the moment. Though whether I would die from my own foolishness or through success, was still unclear.

My eyes glazed over as my memories became clear as day.

Why was I doing this? It was simple.

“Because to me, he is worth it. Because to me, he is worth _everything_.”

My eyes came back into focus, and I suddenly realized that Amber Eyes was crying. I hesitated for a moment, and then reached out a shaking hand to wipe away his tears. Amber Eyes stared back at me, surprise clear on his face.

My lips were chapped, and as a result they cracked and spilt blood into my mouth when they lifted up into a small smile.

Amber Eyes was trying to help me, I could see this even though I already knew that I was beyond help. I wasn’t a good person, and I wasn’t worth anyone's concern because I was a selfish monster who was not properly human anymore.

But you knew me Amber Eyes.

You cared about me.

You lied so that those other **-unworthy-** Death Eaters wouldn’t kill me. You protected our Master’s horcrux.

I owe you a debt Amber Eyes.

“I am not like you.” I tried to explain, in an awkward attempt to make him realize that my death would not be the tragic thing he thought it would be, “There has never been a place for me in this world, and there never will be. The pain alone has driven me to become… what I am now. I don’t even want to contemplate how much worse it’s going to get as time goes by.”

This world had no place for my Master either, and so he tried to create a place where he could fit. I ruined his chance at that, I ruined both of our chances to belong.

“I don’t have any reason to live, Amber Eyes. I really don't.”

My only purpose in life now, was to fix my Master’s fate.

I pulled away from Amber Eyes, and tilted my head as I contemplated the expression on his face.

We had talked about the future plenty of times, but Amber Eyes had never mentioned the fate that we both knew awaited him. My eyes softened.

Maybe I could remember how to be kind…  just this once.

“I’ll fix yours too.”

Amber eyes blinked, confused.

“W-What?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone.  
> I realized something shocking today- This is the first chapter that I have written for this story in seven years.  
> Seven… years.  
> I was stunned when I looked up how long it had been, and as a result, I'll admit that I’m worried about how well this chapter flows with the rest of the story- because its been over half a decade since I’ve delved completely into this world. 
> 
> Please tell me your thoughts, I admit that I’m not very confident in this chapter even though I do like it. 
> 
> ALSO- next chapter will take at most 3 weeks- definitely NOT years. Please don’t let the opening of this AN scare you off. I am going to finish this story as soon as possible, because this story has been waiting to be finished for far too long.
> 
> … I really hope you enjoyed my newest chapter, and the direction I’m taking the story.  
> I'll see you guys soon! I promise :)


	10. In Memoriam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains discrimination, some derogatory language, and also a short scene of attempted rape.  
> It is not very long or graphic, but I wanted to warn you guys to be prepared.

I was offering him everything.

And before he left me, he turned around and looked at me with sadness in his eyes. I still don’t know why he would look at me like that.

_Hey Potter… make sure to have a little fun, before you go._

_You… might never get the chance again._

I smiled at his considerate words, and nodded my head in acknowledgment, which allowed him to finally turn his back to me.

As I watched the amber lines of his body fade away, I couldn’t help but feel slightly wistful. I couldn’t help but have a single moment, of wondering-

What if?

Could we have been friends Amber Eyes?

Could we have had fun together?

But I quickly shook myself of such useless thoughts, because wondering about something that could never happen, was a waste of time.

Still…

Having a little fun before I die? That wasn’t a difficult last request to fulfill, and so as I turned and walked away from Malfoy Manor and the memories it brought with it, I became lost in thought on what exactly I wanted to do.

I absently apparated into an alley in muggle London, near where the entrances to the Ministry of Magic were. And as I stepped out and fell in line with the muggles walking obliviously around me, I couldn’t help but become slightly puzzled.

Because I couldn’t remember the last time I had had fun. I’d never really had any time to waste on unnecessary things, at least, according to what little memories I had.

Suddenly, a girl with headphones in her ears bumped into the man next to me, and her headphone jack pulled out of her phone. Her music spilled out into the streets for everyone to hear, and my eyes lit up at the upbeat tune. As I watched her blush and scramble to turn off her music, I couldn’t help but silently thank her-

Because I had just gotten an idea that needed to be investigated.

 

 

I couldn’t remember her face.

The memory was fuzzy, as if I was seeing it through a dark haze or through water. If it hadn’t been for that song triggering it, then I doubted I would have ever recalled it.

In it, I was pulling a faceless woman up from the floor as the song from that girl’s phone played on a beat up radio. It was an American band if I recalled correctly. The woman in my memory commented on this, and on the fact that her father used to listen to it all the time.

I remember liking the song, but also resenting it. Because it was beautiful, catchy, and fun- everything that I wasn’t able to appreciate at the time.

A waitress stopped next to me with a smile on her face that looked painful.

“Are you ready for your bill, sir?”

I shook my head, and reached over for the menu I had been hoarding these past few hours, “No, but I’m about ready for dessert now.” Her lips twitched like a crack expanding on the pavement.

_Chocolate._

I recalled something about chocolate- a man with scars on his face and a gentle smile used to give me chocolate, and I remember feeling warm and grateful. I feel like I used to love chocolate. Maybe it was even my favorite once.

“I’ll have the triple chocolate cake... and also the blackberry tart, the strawberry shortcake, and the lemon cheesecake.”

The waitress dutifully wrote down my order, and then lowered her pad with a strained smile, “I’ll get that order in for you right away sir, but just so you know- my shift is about to end, and a new waitress will be waiting on you from now on.”

“No problem, have a good afternoon.”

“You as well…”

As she walked away with a frustrated look on her face, I couldn’t help but wonder what her problem was.

After all, I was a well-mannered customer who had been sitting here, minding his own business for the past six hours.

Maybe she was irritated because she wasn’t going to get a tip from me.

I shrugged carelessly, and then turned my attention back to the phone in my hands. It was apparently revolutionary technology that had recently come out, an ‘i phone’ they called it.

It had internet access, a music app, and a dozen other things I couldn’t even begin to know the purpose of. The man at the store was nice enough to try and explain, but after he showed me how to use the internet and music apps, I hightailed it out of there.

This phone was way too complicated, and after spending two hours having him explain just those two functions, I couldn’t help but feel like a small child trying to figure out how letters worked. He helped put money into the ‘i tunes’ account he set up for me, but in order to do that, first I had to have an email.

I almost wanted to cry after he told me all the steps I had to do just to get some music on my phone- especially after I learned that I needed an email, because apparently everyone had an email, and the man looked at me like I was mentally ill when I mentioned not having one and also not knowing how to set one up.

And then after all that was done, I asked him how to find certain songs, and even mentioned that I knew a few of the lyrics. He said an app called ‘You Tube’ was my best bet, which was a free music app that didn’t need any additional steps past downloading it.

I almost blew off his head when he said that with his salesman smile and twinkling eyes.

That fucking bastard.

After _that_ reveal, I picked out some headphones, paid, and left. But not before cursing him with some very painful boils in some very sensitive places.

I paid with transfigured money, and was somewhat regretful to the fact that it was a permanent transfiguration. Because if those pounds had turned back into newsprint, I wanted that bastard Jerry to take the blame and get fired.

But I digress, boils on around his pelvis and arse should be a sufficient enough punishment for wasting my time I suppose.  

As I opened the You Tube app and typed the lyrics of the song I remembered in the search bar, I couldn’t help but curse the ‘touch screen’ with every fiber of my being; because my fingers kept clicking the _wrong_ letter every other letter because the damn keyboard was so fucking **_small_ **.

… why did I suddenly feel like an old man?

Ignoring the mysterious feeling, I continued to struggle with the phone in my hands, and grinned when it finally pulled up the results I wanted.

After my first success, navigating the app became easier, and I spent the next few hours exploring the music I had apparently been deprived of my whole life.

From what I could recall, there were only a handful of bands in the Wizarding World. And after spending my day exploring the ‘You Tube’, I couldn’t help but pity them and their limited music variety.

I’d become a bit of a music snob these past few hours apparently, and my favorite band so far was a group called Muse. They were interesting to listen too, though not quite as upbeat as I was looking for.

I glanced over to where the manager was arguing with someone over the phone, and smiled a mischievous little grin.

For the past six hours, the music that played in the cafe was not coming out of their speakers.

After I had short circuited the speakers with my magic, I subtly replaced the existing radio station with myself. My magic strummed through the air and filled it with the music I was hearing through my headphones.

Quite a few of my song choices had turned out to be either incredibly horrible or quite scandalous (that’s what I got for clicking on the ‘recommended’ videos under the ones I was watching), but still...

The look on the Manager’s face as they tried to change radio stations, or shut the ‘system’ down, was priceless.

I think this is what fun feels like.

 

 

When I was little, my cousin Dudders or whatever his name was- was obsessed with comic book heroes.

My Aunt wasn’t enthusiastic about it, but she had to admit that she preferred him watching movies like Superman and Spiderman over the popular TV shows like Supernatural and Charmed.

Science and aliens were after all, at least somewhat logical- and not _nearly_ as nonsensical as magic.

Hypocritical bitch.

But that was besides the point, now, the reason why this line of thought was relevant to my current situation, was because of something that almost all superheros had in common.

And that was a badass entrance.

They had tragic backstories, lots of moments becoming stronger, ect.

And looking back on all those stories I had glimpsed through the vent of my Cupboard, I found that they were in fact quite similar to my own.

But unlike them, I’d never had a badass moment in my life. It was quite disappointing actually.

Most of my life I spent reacting to the given situation- reacting to other people getting their moments- and maybe it was the energy drinks talking, but as I walked through the muggle department store and added another pair of pants to my cart, I couldn’t help but feel like it was time to right this wrong.

My Master was the King of badass entrances and exits in my opinion- and while I couldn’t hope to imitate his mastery, well… it still felt right to honor him in a way.

I confounded the Fitting Room attendant to allow me to take my mountain of clothes into a Fitting Room, and then spent the next few hours humming a catchy pop tune I had stuck in my head as I tried on various outfits in order to find the perfect one.

I had never experienced anything like this before. I had never been allowed to leisurely go through things and decide what I liked- what I prefered. Everything I owned and did in my life was either required, necessary, or picked out for me. This-

This was nice.

I almost felt…

… like I was allowed to be human.

 

I started keeping track of time again.

After meeting Ivan, I found myself with a newfound sense of purpose, and a _reason_ to keep track of time. After all, what I was planning required the _sands of time,_ and it wasn’t like there was an unlimited supply in the world. I was still mourning the fact that I couldn’t find more on my journey through Egypt.

As I walked by a newspaper stand, I took a moment to note the date. Today was May 20th in the year 2009, almost exactly two years after the so called ‘Final Battle’. Almost two years since the death of Lord Voldemort.

Ignoring the twinge in my chest at the thought, I turned my eyes away from the damning date, and took a moment to look above the buildings and admire the reds and yellows that painted the sky.

The colors of this sunset were beautiful, and it was incredibly strange to realize that this would probably be the last sunset that I would ever see. I smiled a small smile, and my thoughts wandered back to Riddle Manor, where the sunset would be falling below trees instead of white washed buildings. I couldn’t help but pick up my pace, eager to see my last sunset from there instead of here- but after I slid into the nearest alley to apparate home, I couldn’t help but pause at the sight of something further in.

Two girls were being dragged away from the mouth of the alley by two men, and a woman was walking next to them with a satisfied and self-righteous look on her face. Both of the girls were screaming what I assumed to be each other’s names, they had bruises blooming around their eyes and jaw, and I watched with wide eyes as they were thrown to the ground and the group of three began kicking where their defensive positions couldn’t protect them.

“Disgusting!”

“Flaunting you’re unnaturalness for anyone to see-”

“You deserve this!”

After listening to their disgusted remarks and their self-righteous speech, it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened. I had heard similar speeches in the past after all.

Those two girls were-

“Faggots!”

“Why don’t we give you a taste of what it's like to be with a man, hmm? Maybe that will fix the sickness in your brains.” Both of the men started laughing as they grabbed the girls by their kicking ankles, and forcefully spread their legs.

My eyes dilated in fury, and before either of them could so much as touch to zippers on the girl’s jeans, the men were flying backwards and colliding with a brick wall. I didn’t bother being gentle with trash like them, and so when my magic stretched out and noticed that their hearts were no longer beating and that their necks were snapped, well...

As far as I was concerned, there were a few less pieces of trash in the world.

“Wh-what the bloody hell?!”

Their companion quickly backed away, her face pale with fear- and the look of utter _horror_ on her face when she spotted me, made it clear just how terrifying my expression must have been.

Of course, I couldn’t feel the dark oppression my magic had tainted the air with- the pressure that was crushing the woman and forcing her to her knees. For her, it felt like gravity had multiplied tenfold, and that soon she would be forced onto her stomach, and then she would be crushed into paste when she had no room left give.

I also didn’t notice how dark the alley had become with my negative emotions staining the air; as I sucked out all the positivity, warmth, and hope that was around me.

The woman’s breath began to fog when she breathed out.

“D-demon! DEMON!”

I walked down the alleyway, a simple stride like I was walking down a park path and not going to deliver death upon someone.

The two girls had crawled towards each other, and were now holding one another with shaking arms as they cowered against one of the alley’s walls, and watched me with uncertainty and lingering terror in their eyes.

My gaze never left the woman who was straining to stay on her hands and knees, and now that I was closer and could see her face-

I couldn’t help but feel a stab of hate in my gut that caused her to scream as the pressure increased and cracked the bones in her arms and knees. I forced her to lie on her belly and prostrate before me.

She was too young to be her- too young and not nearly as thin or ugly-

But she looked enough like the woman who beat me - **starved me** \- the woman who _laughed_ when Uncle brought down his belt and spilled my blood on her carpet that she would **_force me to_ ** **clean-**

She looked enough like her, that I knew there was no way I would let her live, even if she wasn’t a part of this vile situation.

“I might be a monster,” I whispered as I squatted down next to the nameless woman’s head, and reached out to grab a handful of her hair near her scalp. I wrenched her head back, my grip merciless and my glare steady as her screams pierced the air, “I might even be a **_Freak_ **, but the one thing I am sure of in this world, is that my love for my Master is more natural then breathing.”

I turned my head to look at the two girls shivering behind me, and gave them a small smile as I thought of my Master. I looked at them, and I could see a glimpse of what him and me could have had- I thought of how we could have been tangled together like that, protecting each other on an instinctual level.

“Loving him could never be wrong, and if you say that it’s wrong simply because we’re both _men-_ ” I heard one of those girls gasp as I turned my demonic eyes back to the insect struggling in my thrawl, heedless that her survival was an impossible goal she could never reach.

“Then I’m beginning to think that **you** are in fact the monsters- because you know **_NOTHING_ **of love.”

The sound of her screams were lovely as my magic speared through her eyes, up her nose, and into her ears. I ripped apart her brain in chunks, and slowly dragged them through her orifices even as her body spasmed because I made sure to keep her brainstem perfect and undamaged throughout the entire process.

I heard one of the girls throw up behind me, and I also heard them start sobbing. I couldn’t be sure if it was because of me or the trauma of their attack- but in the end it didn’t really matter to me.

I dropped the woman’s mutilated face to the dirty ground, and stood up while casually wiping the blood that had splattered onto my hands onto my jeans. My rage was sated, and I didn’t bother glancing back at the girls as I turned and apparated away.

I had a sunset to see after all.

 

It really was beautiful.

Worthy of being the last one I would ever see.

I was laying on freshly cut grass in the backyard of Riddle Manor, a gentle smile on my lips as I pretended that He was laying next to me.

I could almost feel his warmth against my side as we laid there and watched the last of the crimson streaks fade into violet and indigo.

I sighed when I felt the cold breeze against my skin, and with it, the illusion of my Master’s warmth faded. I sat up, suddenly too cold and too alone, and turned to look at the undisturbed grass beside me with empty eyes.

Tomorrow.

I’ll be in your arms tomorrow Master.

After repeating this mantra several times in my head, I was able to fortify my heart against the ache that pulsed through my body.

I stood on unsteady legs, and took in the sight of the garden around me as the crystals that framed the pathway to the Manor lit up automatically in the semi-darkness of the evening. The nearby fountains also had several stones that lit up, and it cast a magical glow on the once muggle garden- like something straight out of a fairytale.

Riddle Manor had extensive grounds, and I had spent the past month or so trimming back the overgrowth, and turning it into a true garden. There was a section for herbs at the back of the house, near the conservatory, as well as a small orchard of apple trees past the show garden with its fountains and perfectly arranged flower beds.

I didn’t bother turning it back into the no doubt prim and proper garden that was artificially perfect in every way- instead I kept the wildness, encouraged the ivy growing up a corner of the house, and the pretty weeds that were strangling those ‘beautifully fragile’ flowers.

It was wild, savage, and above all- beautiful.

And the renovations on the grounds were only a part of all the changes I had made.

After taking some money out of my Gringotts account, I had traveled not only to Egypt, but also to several other countries in search of the various creatures whose blood I needed. While in Germany, I came across the dwarves.

It was after I had hunted down an illusive and annoying as fuck Bavarian Erkling, that I stumbled upon them in the middle of building a summer home for some rich pureblood whose name I didn’t bother to learn.

After asking some apparently dumb questions that had the dwarves muttering some unflattering things about ‘ignorant half-blood foreigners’, I learned that Germanic dwarves were very famous architects. It turned out that every pureblood worth their galleons in western Europe, had their manors commissioned by them.

When they mentioned this, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting to Riddle Manor. It wasn’t a masterpiece of architecture, and every single inch of it was devoid of magic, save the impromptu potions lab I had created, and the study my Master had modified.

But I didn’t need much, those two things were enough for me. I had spent enough time in the muggle world to know how to cook for myself in a muggle kitchen, and how to use light bulbs.

But in that moment, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to the Manor after I left, and the thought of some unworthy _wretch_ touching the things that once belonged to my Master-

**It made me see red.**

I blinked away the murderous thoughts that whispered through my mind, and thoughtfully watched the dwarves continue working while shooting me dirty looks- obviously wanting me to leave them to do their work in peace.

The Manor itself really didn’t mean much to me, my Master had hated it on principle after all, but I couldn’t help but wonder in that moment… what would it have looked like if it was a Magical Manor.

This thought stayed with me after I apparated away, it stayed with me until I found myself wandering Germany’s Magical Alleys in search of the home offices for the dwarves. It wasn’t quite a whim, more of an idea that I wanted to fulfill-

Because while I didn’t like the thought of any _outsiders_ dragging their unworthy feet into my Master’s Sanctuary…

Well. There was someone in this world who wasn’t an outsider.

After curiously browsing through several dwarven companies, I found one that satisfied my needs. After all, I didn’t want a new manor built- I just wanted to renovate one (and luckily for me, the dwarves lived in a neutral nation that was not held back by something as petty as criminal history- much like the goblins).

And now Riddle Manor, once an extravagant (but still muggle) home, was now ‘officially’ foreclosed on, and hidden behind wards that would have made the founders of Hogwarts proud.

The dwarves respected my wishes to keep most of the original floorplan, but otherwise, they changed nearly every aspect of the house. They expanded the rooms, commissioned magical appliances, lamps, and these beautiful crystals that lit up the grounds at night.

They also added a Library, a proper Potions Lab, a dungeon under the house, and a Conservatory where I decided to keep some magical plants.

It was a perfect Sanctuary, a little slice of heaven which I was proud to have created.

And as I walked up the pathway to Riddle Manor, toward the kitchen door that was right next to the herb garden, I couldn’t help but smile as I noticed the Servant’s House in the corner of my eye. It wasn’t too far away, and it positively gleamed under the artificial moonlight. I had the dwarves tear down the old shack, and replace it with a new servant’s quarters that would accommodate any future house elves.

My eyes softened at the memory of huge blue eyes, and colorful socks. His name was Dobby, I remember that. He died protecting me- not because of who I was, but simply because he was loyal to me.

He cared about me.

I knew this to be fact, and I was also beginning to think that he was the only one who truly cared about me in the past. He was the only one who had never abandoned me.

Him and my Master.

I walked into the kitchen to find that the roast was still simmering where I left it that morning, and absently sent out a tendril of magic to fetch a bowel from the cupboards while I dug into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I pushed the ‘shuffle’ option on the music app, and set the phone on the counter as I scooped up my dinner and sat at the small table situated in the corner by the stove. Just a place where someone could grab a snack, without having to eat in the formal dining room. I ate here every day…

It was so quiet without Amber Eyes.

I tried to drone out the silence with music, but it still haunted me as I walked through the empty hallways of my Master’s Manor, and I couldn’t help but be uncomfortably aware of the fact that my Master had never walked down these hallways- had never seen the garden I created under the moonlight, or eaten food that I cooked for him.

But there was one place in the Manor that I had not allowed the dwarves to touch.

It was _my_ Sanctuary, and I liked to think that maybe it was a Sanctuary for my Master too.

This was the chair he sat in, the table he worked at, and the theories he wrote out.

I smiled a small, content smile as I straightened up my Master’s work on the table, pretending for a moment that he was the one who had left it like this, that he was simply out for the moment and that he would be back soon.

My days were full of small lies like this.

_But after tomorrow, I won’t have to pretend anymore._

My smile became brighter, more genuine as I turned to the table where my bottomless pouch sat. Amber Eyes had generously gifted me his old one, a pouch connected to a cord that would go around my neck. Its vast space was full of all the materials I had gathered for the ritual tomorrow.

I let out a happy hum as I opened the pouch, and began sifting through it to make sure that everything was where I left it. After I triple checked that it held everything on the list that Amber Eyes and I had written, I reluctantly reached into my pocket, and pulled out the final two items on the list that I had fetched earlier that day. My hands shook around one of the items, and I quickly stowed it into the pouch without daring to look at it too closely.

Tomorrow.

I.. I will deal with it tomorrow.

Swallowing back the raw **want** in my veins, I tied the cord around my neck, and caressed the soft fabric of the pouch before tucking it under my shirt, and letting out a shaky sigh.

My eyes glazed over for a few moments, knowing it was there- _knowing that my Master could have been next to me if I just_ **_used_ ** _it-_

Tomorrow.

My eyes came back into focus, and I sniffed back the tears that wanted to fall as I tried to smile and assure myself that everything would work out. That I would see my Master again- that all this work that Amber Eyes and I had done was not worthless.

That I could have a chance to right the wrongs I had done.

Swallowing back the bile in my throat, I focused on something more positive- because everything _was_ going to work out. I focused on the memory of the other Master’s pretty violet eyes. I thought of his cute little smile, and of the promise that Amber Eyes made before he left.

They were the only good things left in this broken world.

And this was my last gift to both of them.

Normally, going back in time would cause this future to cease to exist- after all, I’m rewriting the past so a new future was going to be born.

Maybe it would have been kinder to not do this, but I couldn’t help but want to leave this timeline alone- leave it unaltered so that Amber Eyes could live out the life he wanted without a Master (though I couldn’t understand his want to be free of my Master, I respected him enough not to judge him for it), and so Ivan could have his chance to rule.

Because I knew my Master well enough, to know that outside of me, no one who could threaten him would be allowed to live.

I adored that little cherubim, and so I decided to instead create an alternate timeline instead of simply rewriting this one. My final gift to the two of them.

Of course, the Master who I ended up saving wouldn’t really be _my_ Master, just a version of him-

But I think that might be for the best. Because after all, there would be a different Harry Potter in that timeline- one that still contained a Horcrux.

And I refused to share _my_ master with anyone.

**Anyone.**

 

 _I would kill my past self before letting him touch_ _**My** _ _Master._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> I hope you guys like my latest chapter- I’m sorry that it's a bit late. A lot of things have happened these past few weeks. I hope that the length makes up for it, even just a little bit.  
> As always, I’m excited to hear what you guys have to say, and look forward to knowing your thoughts on the direction I’m going. 
> 
> This is Harry’s last day before shit hits the fan- and I wanted to give him… something happy and at least somewhat peaceful. I also ended up doing a lot of interesting research during this chapter- Did you know that the first iPhone came out in 2007? The same year as the Deathly Hallows? I didn’t, but I thought it was an interesting fact to add to the story :D  
> As for the attack on the two girls… same sex marriage was made legal in England in 2013, but the first marriage didn’t happen until 2014. I’ve never lived in the UK so I won’t claim to know how widespread the prejudice was back in that day and time- but I tried to be respectful and keep my facts straight. 
> 
> As always, I’m always eager to hear your input, and I hope that you enjoyed my latest chapter. See you guys soon :)


	11. Mayhem at the Ministry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song referenced in this chapter - Coming Undone by Korn: 2005

_I want to die._

This was my first thought every morning, in the soft time between feeling the warmth of the covers on my skin and opening my eyes. Sometimes it was shaped differently-

_Why am I still alive?_

_Why doesn’t God just kill me already?_

_I thought I stopped breathing already..._

_Maybe I’m already in Hell._

This day started out like any other. Sleep was the only escape that I had from the pain inside my chest- the **emptiness**. But even then, the agony I felt always tainted my dreams and dyed them red. 

When I dreamed of being held in my Master’s arms, the sweet image was ruined by the feeling of _wrongness_. It was then dirtied by my tears as I begged my Master to let me feel him again **_entwine our souls again-_**

But then I would remember that I didn’t deserve it. 

After this realization hit, the memories of **that night** would always play behind my eyes. The night that had been burned into my mind and shattered heart, even though every day, I woke with the cruel hope that it wasn’t real.

That was always my second thought, after waking up in the morning.

It was always a wish, a silent prayer- or even a plea made from the shattered remains of my heart and mind.

_Maybe it didn’t happen..._

_Maybe it was just a dream..._

_Please let it have been a dream._

My sanity cracked a little more each day that I woke up to reality. To a place where wishes and hopes died with every sunrise. 

But today, I opened my eyes to the color blue. 

I blinked slowly in surprise, because this was something different- a new twist on my morning ritual that I wasn’t expecting. 

Blinking away the cloudiness in my vision, I reached up to wipe away the condensed tears from my eyes, and focused on the beautiful blue bubble that I was nestled in. 

What...

Two rows of silent ghosts were an additional layer of protection that I didn’t expect. Their colorful souls stood at attention, like soldiers guarding a treasure- they were all poised to protect me from any attack that my bubble could not block. 

Why… ?

I stared in confusion at my strange surroundings as I sat up, and startled myself when I felt the pouch around my neck fall and hit my collarbone. I looked down at the small black pouch, and felt a moment of clarity hit me like a sledgehammer to the head.

I gasped, and reached up with greedy and protective hands without giving my surrounds another glance. I curled around the little pouch like a dragon guarding its horde, and felt a smile twist across my face like a crack in frozen glass. 

My eyes became half lidded and content as I breathed in the scent of magic that came off the pouch- magic that reminded me of the color of my Master’s eyes. It tasted like blood on my tongue. 

**_“Oh, Right.”_ **

Every day I went to sleep on a bed that was too big for me, curled on one side like I was waiting for someone to join me. 

_**“Today is the day.”** _

But yesterday, my routine changed. I went to sleep with burning eyes, and a paranoia that would have made the One-Eyed man proud. 

_**“Constant Vigilance~ isn’t that what he called it?”** _

How could I sleep when I was so close to my goal?! So close to redeeming myself in my Master’s eyes, and earning his love back?

How could I sleep when my hopes and dreams could be shattered with the next sunrise? With my hard work stolen from my body, or my body stolen of its life?

I was usually careless with my safety. Even if I promised not to commit suicide, it was not done out of a desire to preserve my life. It was done simply because I was unworthy of such a mercy. 

I was unworthy of such relief, when all I had brought the people I loved was death and suffering. 

I had to first right the wrongs that I had done. This goal was the only motivation I had to keep breathing, and after months of careful planning and preparation, I had finally reached the day where I could take the first step towards my end. 

Towards my redemption. Towards my Master. 

And I wasn’t going to allow anyone to ruin this for me. 

Yesterday, I was forced to be conservative with my magic because of the ritual I was going to attempt today. In the end, all I could think to prepare was a bubble shield to protect myself from thieves and would-be murderers. 

But that wasn’t enough. 

If they managed to get past the wards on the house, and into Our bedroom, then a simple bubble wouldn’t be enough. My bubble would wake me the moment it was touched by an outsider’s magic- but I wouldn’t have enough time to react if they simply threw a killing curse at me. Only a living soul could block that curse, and so my bubble would be useless if that were the case. 

It was uncertain if I would remain alive in that situation, despite my body having so many souls to spare. 

And I wasn’t going to take a chance on that.

So I stationed the ghosts around my bed, and cut them off from their memories and personalities- until the only thing that they existed for, was protecting me and my precious treasure. 

Me and my fragile hope.

I hummed a low melody that reminded me of the sound of a graveyard, and the screams of unworthy Death Eaters. 

I stretched out on the luxurious bed, and arched my back in order to pop it. I curled around the black pouch, caressing its soft fabric as my eyes shined with love and **obsession.**

_I hope you enjoy the show today, Master~_

  
  


The atrium was full of white noise that was the result of hushed conversations, and the fluttering of animated paper cranes that flew above the heads of the Ministry employees.

The marble floor shined under their feet as they walked to their various destinations, perfectly polished, and free of the battle scars that had once marked its glossy surface. 

Even the glass from the office windows that looked down on the atrium were perfect replicas of the ones that had been shattered and turned into sand. Every witch and wizard that walked along the halls of the Ministry of Magic, moved with the careless attitude of one who had no idea of the violence that had taken place where they were standing. 

They were people who were all too happy to forget, happy to pretend that this place had been untouched during the war.

That everything had always been this way.

It gave them a false sense of security, a feeling that the government had never fallen and had always remained intact.

What lies these people believed in.

I floated above their heads, above the paper cranes, and even above the new chandelier that they had installed to make this place look even more pretentious. 

I was so high up, that even without the aid of my invisibility cloak, it was unlikely that anyone who wasn’t looking out of the Minister of Magic’s window would see me.

My black jeans and t-shirt blended in well with the onyx ceiling, though I liked to think that the color complimented my skin tone. At least, that’s what the sales woman kept telling me whenever I asked her opinion... In the end, I suppose I spent too much of my life in muggle clothes to truly feel comfortable in anything else.

Plus with my plans for the next few hours, something comfortable, easy to run in, and able to hide bloodstains was essential.  

I rolled lazily through the air, and crossed my arms over my chest as my legs tucked in comfortably to my chest. 

I was so high up that I could run my hand along the ceiling, and admire the little details in it- like the crushed gemstones in the onyx that gave the ceiling the illusion having stars. 

This luxurious place; with its onyx and ivory walls, golden statues and filigree, seemed like a place untouched by the conflicts of time. 

What a beautiful, _disgusting_ lie. 

I smiled as I looked down on the unsuspecting ants below me, who were about to have their illusion of control **destroyed.**  

I closed my eyes, and took in a deep breath as my heart raced inside in my chest. My hands clutched the pouch around my neck as I curled around it, both exhilarated and terrified at the knowledge of what was about to come.

It was about to start- my final moments in this world were about to begin!

I bit my lip in anticipation as my magic coiled gleefully through the air. The tendrils were still transparent, but they distorted the air around them like pieces of glass. They were thick, and pulsed with insidious intent as they curled around the atrium like the tentacles of a monster about to devour prey. 

The temperature in the atrium steadily began to drop, but although everyone gave a cursory glance around when they began to shiver- they continued on, oblivious to the **Demon** hovering above their heads.

My smile widened and my eyes glowed in the dim lighting as the lights around the atrium began to flicker, and then shatter like fireworks above their heads.

I heard several high pitched screams as the atrium became shadowed in greys and shadows, the ivory accompaniments to the onyx making the whole room feel like it was surrounded by the bones of a Monster- like the whole building itself was a Monster. 

I closed my eyes, and relished in the sound of their panicked voices growing in volume, and then floated until I was facing the ceiling with my back to the worms beneath me. I closed my eyes. 

_I’m going to have a lot of fun Amber Eyes~_

My eyes snapped open, and for a single moment, everything became quiet and still. 

And then the hovering charm on my body faded away, and I was free falling through the air as my magic burrowed into the foundation of the building, and caused the whole place to rock as if it was caught in an earthquake.

The fireplaces were immediately cut off from the floo network, and in the distance, a lot of people let out screams as the elevators abruptly came to a stop. The phone booths aboveground sealed in place so that no one could gain entry from them, along with the bathrooms that the Ministry employees used to enter the workplace. 

And just like that, the Ministry’s Atrium became cut off from the world. 

The tendrils of magic that were still curling in the air pulsed with the sound of angry drums as my magic connected to the iphone I had left at home, and pressed shuffle. 

I blinked in surprise at the song that my luck had chosen, and then I was laughing so hard that tears fell from my eyes. 

My cackle caught everyone's attention, and even as I landed and created a crater in the Ministry floor, I couldn’t help but grin maniacally as the sounds of an angry guitar filled the air, and further mutilated the peace of those around me. My lips pulled up into a smile that made them all shudder and scream. 

It took everyone almost 30 seconds to register just, what exactly, they were seeing. Experiencing.

_“Keep holding on,_

_When my brain’s tickin' like a bomb.”_

It took them another 10 seconds to react. 

_“Guess the black thoughts have come again to get me”_

Tsk. Tsk.

I clicked my tongue childishly at them, and wondered to myself, how exactly were these maggots still living? With such a horrible survival instinct, my Master should have long buried them under his shoe and rid the world of them.

I giggled as I took my first step forward into the world of screams, and the rainbow of aggressive spells that were aimed to defend and **hurt.**

_“That’s Right!”_

I glanced around at the sight of the hundreds of wands pointed at me, and was unsurprised when an alarm suddenly blared through the air like a siren. 

_“Deliver it to my heart!_

_Please strike!”_

My skin started to glow like I was some kind of ethereal being straight out of a supernatural TV show. I found the thought quite amusing- because typically the things that were cloaked in white lights represented Good Things.

I was not a Good Thing. 

_“Be deliberate.”_

The white aura around me swelled with power as it absorbed more and more magic from the spells that managed to hit my body, until white clouds were puffing from my lips and my eyes were glowing white. 

_“WAIT!”_

And that was when the first explosion started. 

_“I’m coming undone,_

_IRATE!”_

“Ah-ahahahahahhaaaa!” 

_“I’m coming undone,_

_TOO LATE!”_

“I’m coming undone~ What looks sooooo strong so _delicate._ ” I sang along to the song with a happy smile on my face, as I skipped over the various body parts that surrounded the crater I was standing in.

I absently kicked away a dismembered arm, and watched with amused eyes as it flew, and smacked someone who was struggling to sit up in the face. 

No one had managed to remain standing after I released the magical shockwave. Almost half the people in the room had been knocked unconscious, either from hitting their heads, or from the burst of magical power itself. The rest were completely dazed, and most couldn’t even sit up properly because their bodies were shaking from shock.

I tilted my head as I watched the worms around me struggle to move, and then I looked down at the body parts around my feet.

“So weak…” 

Perhaps I should have held back a little bit more.

But still… I pouted, because the shockwave was only supposed to be a warm up. I hadn’t expected so many people in the room to explode, or for the rest to suffer so severely. It was just supposed to be a flashy and fun move...

Just how weak were these wizards?!

_“I’m starting to suffocate,_

_And soon I anticipate~”_

Now almost a third of my livestock was gone, and I couldn’t afford to waste any more bodies. 

Still pouting, I tried my best to look on the bright side of things as I raised my hands up, and released millions of spider threads from my fingers. They curled around the limbs of my still living prey, and despite how thin the strands were, I was confident in their strength.

I smiled serenely.

The time for games was over, I’d had my fun, and now it was time to get serious. If they started throwing around killing curses, my supply of souls would quickly diminish, and I wasn’t about to take that risk. 

_“I’m coming undone,_

_What looks so strong so delicate.”_

My eyes gleamed with anticipation as I clenched my hands that were controlling the spider strings shut- and then I pulled back with every ounce of my strength. The muscles in my arms bulged as thousands of strands of razor thin wire tightened around the wrists, ankles, and necks of every living person in the room, and then hoisted them until they dangled in the air like broken mannequins on a factory line.

The sound of dozens upon dozens of wands clattering to the floor beneath my victims, made the music I was listening to all the sweeter. 

 **“Choke, choke again,”** My voice was dark with malicious intentions as I eyed the choking and crying pray caught in my web, **“I thought my demons were my friends~”**

Sighing happily, I continued to sing along with the song as I approached the squirming roach closest to me.

He looked around 40 years old- like a mature man with strict discipline in his perfectly pressed grey robe. His eyes were bulging, red, and overflowing with a waterfall of tears while snot ran down his face. He was squealing like a pig that knew it was about to be slaughtered.

I reached out and caressed his neck, or more accurately, I lovingly reached out and traced the taut wire around his neck, and the little bead of blood that had leaked out from underneath it. 

I looked into his eyes with a tenderness that terrified him to his core, “Getting me in the end, they’re out to get me…” 

I leaned in close, and firmly gripped his jaw in order to keep his squealing mouth open. I could feel the stares boring into my back, and allowed the souls of my ghosts that had previously been invisible to shine. 

I sighed happily as I listened to their screams as the shadowed atrium became lit with the auras of dozens of ghosts. 

_“Since I was young,_

_I tasted sorrow on my tongue.”_

I opened my mouth, and happily swallowed a new brother to join them on their ghostly vigilance. I ripped apart his personality just as I had the others, and within seconds, a new dandelion colored ghost joined their ranks.

Those who saw him appear were horrified, and also quick to connect his appearance with the suddenly lifeless man I was standing in front of. They started struggling in earnest, and their wonderful screams became even more loud and desperate. 

The heavy smell of blood continued to fill the air around me, and I continued to hum and smile as I walked over to the next victim hanging two feet away. My eyes were tender, even as I greedily forced open their mouth and swallowed down their struggling soul and magic. 

The music around me began to wind down, and the next song to play was appropriately macabre and slow. The deep bass rumbled through everyone’s bones, and set their teeth on edge. 

My smile remained unchanged as I continued on my leisurely hunt. 

  
  


They started cursing me after a bit of time had past. 

The knowledge of their inevitable deaths made them stupidly brave, or maybe simply bitter. 

They hurled abuse at me as they hung helpless in the stagnant air. Few still had the energy to try and struggle free, and those that did were feeble in their attempts. They had lost so much blood, that soon they would soon join the others, and pass out. 

About 40 people hung lifeless in the air, their bodies unresponsive and heavy as they became dead weight against my wires. Their bodies continuously dripped blood to stain the tiles underneath them, and without their magic unconsciously protecting them, I deduced that it wouldn’t be long until their soulless bodies truly died. 

There were more ghosts in the room then living people now, and the sight almost allowed me feel content, even as my skin crawled and bulged with the power I was forcing inside my body. 

It felt excruciating- like my body was trying to contain the sun. 

My skin felt hot and tight, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the blood running through my veins had turned into acid that was slowly dissolving me from the inside out. I felt bloated, like I had eaten too much and would soon throw up everything inside me- even my blackening organs. 

But I still continued to eat. I didn’t dare stop. 

_What if it wasn’t enough?_

**_What if this amount of magic wasn't enough?!_ **

This thought played continuously through my head as I endured soul after soul entering my body and binding themselves to my own crippled soul. 

It felt like I was pouring sewage down my throat, and was forcing myself to continue to do it because it was ‘good’ for me. These maggots tasted disgusting, and they made my insides feel as if they were being continuously violated. 

I felt dirty. 

I wanted to shrink away from them- I wanted to curl up into a ball and force them all away from the sacred place inside me that should have only been filled by my Master. 

But I couldn’t stop- if I stopped, what if I let down my Master?

 _What if it wasn’t enough- then all this violation would have been for_ **_nothing_.**

I couldn’t stop- not when I was so close to seeing my Master again- _dear God, please, I know you hate me, but please..._

Please let my Master forgive me.

“Please…” 

It was even worse then before. Previously, when I ate the souls of those who hurt me, it was done out of vindictiveness. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of. 

“Please… stop…”

So why?

Why was I feeling like this now?!

“Have mercy…”

I looked into the eyes of the man who was begging in front of me, and I saw myself reflected in his dilated pupils.  

The utter disregard for life that was reflected back at me, made me feel like the embodiment of the killing curse. A sickly green color was spilling through my eyes, and as I looked at my reflection, I couldn’t help but wonder if my eyes truly glowed like that.

“Why?”

I grabbed his chin and forced open his mouth with unrelenting fingers, ignoring his whimpers and pleas.

“Why are you doing this to us- we never did anything to you!” 

The man sobbed, his eyes full of despair as I drained him of his soul. I wonder if this look was meant to invoke my pity. 

I felt nothing but contempt. 

_**“You never did anything to me?”** _

I chuckled, and even surprised myself with how bitter I sounded. I walked over to my next victim, and didn’t bother to register what she looked like. 

I grabbed her chin with enough strength to leave bruises on her skin, and glared into her terrified eyes with a burning anger that I had forgotten I could feel. 

“What a selective memory you people have.” 

Even now you are hurting me. Your skin is burning my fingers, and your souls are violating my insides. 

And yet you still dare to ask for pity. For _compassion._

Why should I spare you, when _you_ are the reason that I am like this? _You_ are the reason why my Master is dead- _**you** _are the reason why I remained oblivious to what I should have died protecting! 

**You are the ones who made me to hate myself.**

I heard someone gasp a little further down my line of victims, and then I found myself frozen mid-action at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Harry?! Is that you Harry?” 

My eyes turned away from the trembling worm in front of me, and looked down the row of bodies to find the woman who had spoken to me.

She was 5 bodies away from me, and for some reason, I found the sight of her to be very pleasant. 

That, more than anything, else is what caused me to abandon my current victim, and walk past several others. The maggots that I passed held their breath, and looked at me with desperate hope on their faces that I would continue to ignore them. 

“Oh my God, Harry it is you!” The woman wiggled in her confinement, her eyes wet with tears, though I could not tell what emotion had caused them.

She fell silent after I stopped in front of her, and we both took a moment to take each other in. I watched her slowly shake her head as if she wanted to deny what she was seeing, and for some reason, the sad smile on her lips made me want to comfort her. 

“I know you.” Her smile softened as she nodded her head, and the look of fondness that she gave me almost made me believe that she was happy to see me, “You visited me in the White Room.” 

She used to try and get me to eat, before designating the task to the red-haired girl. I remember how she would smile at me, and pretend that she wasn’t crying when I refused to open my mouth. 

I remember feeling betrayed when the visits stopped.

After three months of not seeing her, I forgot her name. After four months, I forgot her smile.

After a year passed, I slowly began to forget that she ever existed at all.

The woman in front of me took a deep breath, as if fortifying herself, and then the soft lines on her face faded, They were replaced by a look of aggressive confrontation, and resolve.

“I never believed the reports that they gave me- I could never accept the thought that you could mutilate another person, let alone Ron or Ginny.” She swallowed thickly, “But after seeing this today… oh Harry, what has happened to you?” 

The tears that fell down her face were the result of grief and rage, and the words that were spat at me made my heart throb with an old pain that I had once been well acquainted with.

“How could you _do_ something like this?!” 

She was screaming at me. Her voice was shrill, and cold. 

“How could you do that to _us?!”_

“We trusted you!”

I trusted you.

I trusted you with my burden. With my life. With the darkness in my soul, and asked for support. 

In the end you left me too.

You were the only one who I thought would never leave me. 

“Har-aaah!” Her eyes widened comically as the wire tightened around her neck. 

I stared at her tearful brown eyes, and watched her hands flutter like they wanted to protect her throat. She was wearing a short-sleeved pantsuit. It suited her, and the severe bun her hair was kept in. 

I watched blood from her left wrist drip down her arm, and stain the scar on her skin that read MUD BLOOD.

I could remember her screaming when she was tortured. I remember being too weak to save her. 

“Is that why you left me, Brown Eyes?” I didn’t even register speaking my thoughts out loud, “Because I was too weak to save you?” 

I unconsciously tightened the wire around her neck further, so that I couldn’t hear her reply. I didn’t want to hear it. 

Her gurgling was almost as bad as her screams.

“... Why don’t I like the sound of your suffering?” I watched a ring of blood slowly flow down her neck, and felt my eyebrows furrow together. I reached out with gentle fingers after unconsciously loosening the wire around her throat. 

“I should like it… you left me in that place- you left me.” Underneath the blood that stained my fingers, my skin glowed a soothing blue as I forced the blood back into her body, “Why can’t I enjoy your pain?” 

“You- you shouldn’t _enjoy_ someone else’s pain.” Brown Eyes coughed, and cleared her throat awkwardly. Her voice was hoarse, but my fingers were tender on her skin as I made sure her vocal cords were fixed properly, “You’re not like **Him** \- Harry, you’re not a monster-”

“I think that I am Brown Eyes…” 

My hands left her neck, and traveled to heal her wrists. I stared at the scar on her arm, and felt my stomach flip uncomfortably. I couldn’t bring myself to look into her eyes, and felt childish and lost because I knew that I should have known her name. 

“Were you my friend?” I reached up to cup her cheek with a cautious hand, “No… no I don’t think you were…”

I felt her shake her head rapidly in disagreement, and tried to ignore the weight of wrath in my chest. 

“You’re just like him. He was supposed to help me, protect me- but he hurt me instead. Why didn’t he help me...”

“...”

I could picture them together. His red hair next to her brown curls, as they smiled and laughed. He must have been important to her. 

Her silence hurt me more then her skin on mine. I could feel her tears falling onto my shoulder. They soaked through my shirt to pierce my skin like needles.

“Why didn’t **you** help me? Why couldn’t you stand by my side… just one more time…” 

I remember what you did to me.

“Harry… you weren’t in your right mind.” She stood by and watched as those _**traitors** _pinned my traumatized body to the floor, and stole my Master from my arms. She stood there and did **nothing** when I screamed for mercy- when I begged for them to kill me and let me die with my Master, “You were in shock…”

I leaned away from her, and gave her a bitter smile that tasted like betrayal, “And I was supposed to get **_better_** , right? That’s what you always told me.”

“I just needed to try harder, and **Get**. **Better**.” 

When I stepped away from her, I suddenly became aware of the music again. Over the past hour it had become background noise, something to fill the silence and distract me while I endured my unpleasant task. 

I felt the drums bang through my ears next to the sound of my pounding heart, and found that the girl’s desperate calls were drowned out. She sounded far away, like I was trying to listen to her words through a wall of water. 

“I’m never going to get better. This isn’t something that someone can **fix**.” 

I curled my arms around myself, and scraped open a cut on my finger when I rubbed my thumb restlessly into my skin.

“.. Harry... I’m.. sorry-”

“Ha… ha ha Ha Ha HA HAAAAAAA!” My laughter shook my body, and my eyes bulged with insanity as I smiled a disturbing smile, “If ‘sorry’ could fix everything, why would there be a need for **Hell** in this world?!”

My insides were screaming at me. Not only did my skin feel over-sensitive and raw after touching her, but my insides felt like they were about to burst and flow out of my stomach. 

“- Harry... don’t have... do this! Whatever reason.... you think.... have to do this..... you don’t!”

I stared at her, her broken sentences ringing in my ears as I watched her plea for me to stop. 

I turned away from her, and all that she represented, "... I broke myself. And when I put myself back together again, I was crooked."

The world came back into focus. The music became more than noise, and I could now hear her sobs clear in my ear, “But at least now I know what I have to do. I know that I need to atone for what I’ve done.”

“What about what you’re doing now?! Won’t you have to atone for your actions now, too?!” 

She was sobbing so hard, that I could barely make out her next words.

_“Harry… look at what you’re doing…”_

“What I’m doing now?” I turned to look at her, and she flinched away from the look on my face, “Why should I feel guilty for what I’ve done to you people?”

“When I look at you, I don’t even feel like we're the same species anymore. I feel like I’m looking at an insect. When I hurt other people, it’s like pulling the wings off a beetle- do you expect me to feel sympathy for insects? Or guilty for watching them squirm?”

I laughed mockingly, and flinched when it caused a stabbing pain in my gut.

“You say that I am not a monster, but I can see that you don’t believe it anymore.”

It hurt a little, to see the way she looked at me. To see the horror on her face. 

I should feel guilty shouldn’t I? If I was still human, I know that my current actions would have horrified me. 

But the human part of me was already dead. 

“You just weren’t around to see me become one.”

I found that I was unable to force myself back into the trance I needed to suck out their souls. Without my body’s automatic and mindless repetition, I found that I couldn’t even bring my body to approach the worm that was a few feet away from me. 

I couldn’t do it anymore- I couldn’t take another dirty soul inside me without bursting. 

This would have to be enough. 

The ghosts moved out of my way respectfully as I made my way to the closest elevator. With a single thought it was running again, and I watched as the arrow descended with an unnatural quickness to the atrium's level.

When it opened, I was met with the frantic and terrified gaze of three Ministry employees. 

My magic yanked them out of the elevator and carelessly threw them over my shoulder. I heard them impact a few of my puppets, and ignored the cursing and screaming that started when they saw my web.

I walked into the elevator without any further cares or ties to this world, and when I turned around to face the accusing eyes of the people I decided not to kill, it was in time to meet Her eyes from across the room. 

And as the elevator doors closed and hid us from each other’s eyes, I knew that we were thinking the same thing. 

I’m not her ‘Harry’ anymore. 

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene has changed so many times in my head… from tragic to amusing, to funny, to incredibly horrifying.
> 
> But I think I like the way it has finally turned out. I’ve beaten my head over how to best write the climax of this story, and I think I did a pretty good job at building it up- The hardest part of this chapter was Harry's interaction with Hermione, so I'm really excited and slightly terrified to hear what you guys think of it. Did you even know it was Hermione? Was it obvious?
> 
> I also wanted to ask my readers one more thing. I've changed a lot from who I was when I first started writing this, and while I haven't deviated from my previous outline yet, I've found that I really want to change the ending of this story after the ritual is completed. The problem with that is- it's going to make this story a whole lot longer, and the style will also change quite a bit. It will become a lot more plot driven.
> 
> Would you guys be interested in that? Or would you prefer if I end this story with an ambiguous ending after the ritual, and start a separate Part 2 for those interested? 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! I'll post my decision after the next chapter, which should come out in a month or so. Thank you so much for your support everyone, it has meant the world to me.


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